DotHack: Rejoinder
by Renfro Calhoun
Summary: A weary post Quarantine Hiroshi searches for reasons to keep playing, while a lonely Dean returns to Japan in search of Miku, as forces within The World seek its destruction. Sequel to Penance. Rated for violence, language, and a splash of lime later on.
1. Prologue

**DotHack: Rejoinder**  
A DotHack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: Happens about a year and a half after the end of the game, about 14-15 months after the end of Penance. Italics are thoughts. Yes, it's me again. Yes, I know I said the story would be a three-parter, but hey, I didn't think Heist would have sequels at the start. Go figure. This opening part is as much to get the story so far straight in my head as it is to recap for those just joining us. I had a hell of a time sorting out the dates and reconciling them with the established timeline, but I think it looks okay. Kindly point out to me any inconsistencies._

_Anyway, it's good to be back. This will be a bit more mature of a ride (no, not THAT much more mature) but I'll do my best to keep it tasteful, if not appropriate. I'll keep the pretense to a minimum, though I can't say the same for geekly references - we ARE dealing with games and TV shows about games, after all. By all means read along, enjoy, and critique to your heart's content :)_

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

From: L.  
To: C.  
Subj: Timeline 

I've taken the liberty of providing you with a timeline of events following the appearance of the phases, and the subsequent problems within. Certain issues are to be whiteboarded at the next meeting; I've detailed the relevant parts. Peruse them at your leisure and be ready to explain your proposal to the others. Due to Cyber Connect's reticence regarding certain information, understand that much of this is conjecture. Adjust your presentation accordingly.

-

July 10, 2010 - First known appearance of the first phase, "Skeith". Believed to be a defensive measure constructed by the failed administrative program "Morganna" (as per the Epitaph programming), Skeith pursues the AI program "Aura" and the players who sought to protect her.

August 21-23 - Two separate coma incidents (characters "Sieg" and "Orca") are attributed to attacks by Skeith. Infection methodology is believed to be a form of audio/visual electrostimulant syndrome, an invasive technique in which light and sound patterns trigger incapacitation through damage to the optic and auditory nerves. Rumored sightings persist over the next few days.

August 28, 2010 - After a lengthy pursuit, Skeith is destroyed by characters "Kite" (Hiroshi Nakosuke) and "BlackRose" (Akira Hayami), alongside efforts by the hacker "Helba" (later identified as Yumi Minako; formerly Yumi Takahashi, now divorced from former Cyber Connect Vice-President Kyoya Takahashi). The coma patients remain unaffected.

August 29 - "Heist" incident. Asara Corporation endeavors to steal an experimental autonomous hacking program ("Delphi") from Cyber Connect; business agent Maxwell Kerrek, believing the program to be nothing more than financial data, recruits private investigator Dean Stollis and former CC employee Shinji Kayora to do so. They, in turn, seek out Kite to exploit his in-game hacking capabilities, and gain access to the CC mainframe. In the process of retrieving the data, the group discovers its true nature: Kerrek is incapacitated by Delphi and Shinji is killed by hitmen from Cyber Connect (later revealed to be under orders from VP Takahashi). Stollis kills the hitmen and infiltrates CC headquarters, finding and trashing the hard copy of Delphi as Kite and BlackRose dispatch its in-game persona.

September 2-5 - First recorded sustained encounter with entity "Cubia", purportedly a counterpart to the hacking abilities inherited by Kite. The second and third phases, "Innis" and "Magus", appear and are subsequently destroyed by Kite and company. The World is adversely affected by the battle, with massive data corruption and mutation; most servers and areas are visibly distorted or compromised.

September 6 - An outbreak of service fluctuations correlates with events in The World; several coincide with the appearance and destruction of phases four and five, "Fidchell" and "Gorre".

September 10-11 - "Relapse" incident. Seeking to cover up their involvement with Morganna, a rogue CIA faction penetrates Tokyo and begins an aggressive search for any and all leads regarding Echelon. A failed AI protocol developed by one Seijiro Tanaka during his tenure with the Agency, Echelon was applied to the AI entity Morganna in an attempt to create an adaptive and self-regulating administrative system for The World. It is unclear how the characters "BT" (Miku Kurasawa) and "Bear" (Ryo Sakuma) acquired knowledge of the program's existence; ostensibly, Harald Hoerwick left fragments of such information behind. Regardless, the faction attempts to capture and liquidate Sakuma and Kurasawa, with the coerced assistance of Tanaka. Stollis intervenes and, with Tanaka's help, exposes the faction's plot.

Additionally, it is known that Nakosuke and Hayami assisted Stollis in the course of his investigation. Harald, having known of Tanaka's efforts to modify Morganna, attempted to stop her by uploading, in essence, a digital version of himself (presumably, a variant of the same programming used to create Morganna). Shortly after the procedure, he was kidnapped by faction agents posing as police in Frankfurt, Germany. His current whereabouts are unknown. The AI is known to have been split apart by Morganna. The exact in-game events of Nakosuke and Hayami are unclear, though all evidence suggests they encountered and dispatched a fragment or subroutine of that AI.

December 20 - "Pluto Again" incident. Over time, Kite and BlackRose, with the assistance of Helba, Lios and others, find and destroy the remaining phases. The destruction of several phases notably coincides with certain events offline, namely power outages and fluctuations in a variety of public services. The nature of the final in-game confrontation is closely guarded by Cyber Connect, and rumors are at best sketchy or unhelpful. Supposedly, Morganna was successfully quarantined or suppressed by Aura; both appeared to enter a dormant state immediately afterwards. It was recently confirmed that a former CC official, Junichiro Tokuoka (fired at or around the time the character Sieg was incapacitated), aided Helba in the resolution of this event.

December 21-24 - Within three days, all the coma patients recover. It is unknown if this is coincidental or not; the time delay suggests human involvement in their recovery. Hospital records indicate many were visited shortly before their recovery, though the names appear to all be aliases, and no potential suspects have been identified.

January 20, 2011 - Beginning of the "Penance" incident. Asara CEO Aldous Rosenberg, conspiring with CC Vice-President Takahashi, enlists the aid of several convicted felons and renegade staff in both companies to extract Aura from The World. Rosenberg intends to use the program for his own company's benefit, while Takahashi wants it destroyed. Kerrek, suspicious of Rosenberg, asks Stollis to investigate.

February 3-12 - In the course of his investigation, Stollis is kidnapped by the conspirators and employed in a prolonged and complicated deception to lure out and hijack Helba in-game. Nakosuke and Hayami, among others, are initially pulled into the action, but manage to foil the theft attempt and discover Stollis' location and condition; Nakosuke alerts the police. Meanwhile, Stollis is somehow revived and escapes captivity. In conjunction with Tokyo police, Stollis and Nakosuke pursue the conspirators, culminating in the events on February 14. During this time, Takahashi betrays and attempts to kill Rosenberg and the Asara group; police intervene in time to capture Rosenberg alive.

February 14 - Global Cyber-Terrorism Conference, coinciding with the Annual Global Technology Expo. The conspirators use the events as cover to conduct extended operations inside CC headquarters, attempting to destroy Aura and mask the transfer of 500 million yen from the company's main account. Police, CC security (led by Francis Moritsu) and Stollis work together to apprehend Takahashi, Croker and company.

February 17 - The United States and Japanese governments, alongside Cyber Connect, file joint charges of conspiracy, data theft and attempted murder against the conspirators. Separate lesser charges are filed on an individual basis; Takahashi for money laundering, Croker for parole violation, et cetera. Pretrial procedures begin and proceed with atypical haste.

March 12 - Hearing and jury selection.

March 16 - United States, Japan, and Cyber Connect Corporation v. Aldous Rosenberg and Kyoya Takahashi (among others) begins.

-

The details of the trial are of little consequence at this point. I suggest you focus your proposal on the lingering questions that Morganna and Aura pose; how their presence still poses security risks, in the potential forms of cyber-terrorism or corporate espionage, to name two. Also note that while the existence of the AIs is an open secret at this point (within the company, at least), the details surrounding them are not. I recommend they stay that way.

The information provided to us by your broker will be most beneficial in removing a key obstacle to our transaction. I look forward to hearing your proposal in person, and trust that it will convince the board to side with us.

Sincerely,  
A Concerned Shareholder

P.S. I'm not fond of blades or spades. You are authorized to remove any that attempt to interfere.

* * *

He spun around, whirled and struck, blades flashing to and fro between the pair of monsters trapping him. Again and again his strikes hit home, cleaving deep gashes into armor, striking the skeletal figures within. Three- and four-digit umbers floated skyward from the melee, damage dealt and received; blotches of red text against the cloudless blue sky, revealing the winner by cold, hard math. 

With one final, theatric twirling strike, Kite split his armored enemies in two from the neck up, sending helmeted skulls tumbling to the ground. The bodies began to fade before they could finish collapsing, one of them comically reaching up and feeling around where its head used to be. More numbers danced up from his body, experience earned and awarded.

_Piece of cake!_, he thought triumphantly, keeping his guard up as he scanned his surroundings. A strong breeze tugged at his shirt and cap, and caused the grassland around him to hiss as it bent with the wind; the only noise other than gentle string instruments playing soothing background music. Confident that the hills hid no further threats, he sheathed his swords and started towards a nearby treasure chest, which had spawned from a separate portal alongside the monsters.

The Twin Blade gripped the chest's lid and pulled it up, drawing a noisy creaking from its rusty hinges. He dimly remembered the update that added the noises: additional details and upgrades packed alongside new areas, new items, new creatures, and the promise of a new class before the year was out. Ever-growing and changing, as any worthwhile online game should be.

Inside the chest was a clean broadsword, ornately decorated with a golden hilt and small gemstones. Not a weapon for his class, but doubtlessly worth something to somebody. He drew the weapon out and stuffed it into his inventory, though to the eye of one unfamiliar with the game, it looked to simply disappear from his hand.

He watched the chest fade away. _Piece of cake,_ he repeated, not quite so enthusiastic this time.

Pluto Again was mostly a memory now, along with the events that preceded it - and narrowly averted it. Artificial intelligence, corporate conspiracies, rogue software, outlaw hackers... the story took as many twists and turns in his mind as it did in the papers, give or take a few of the juicier details. He couldn't be sure Aura or even The World were safe - or rather, that they would remain safe - but he knew they were safer, as were the people playing it. Somehow, through more than one miracle and plenty of good old-fashioned moxie, Kite and his friends had made the game fun to play again, without fear of losing real people to fake monsters.

Calling it difficult to believe would be charitable; the boy sometimes wondered openly how much had actually happened, and how much had been meant to.

He took another look around, and decided to take five. Starting towards a nearby windmill, he let his mind wander to other questions, and it wasn't long before one in particular danced to the forefront; a nagging doubt that kept pestering him, and had been for the last few months.

_Do I still want to play?_

The windmill towered overhead, and he turned around to lean back against it. Offline, Hiroshi played his fingers across the keyboard, letting his character slide slowly to the ground. He'd wondered at times whether he would have kept playing The World without a mystery to uncover, and without a friend to help, and he couldn't deny that the game itself could only offer so much. Months of playing, chatting, fighting, adventuring, and suddenly it didn't quite mean what it used to.

He gave a rueful half-smile. _It's strange... no, terrible, in a way... but I miss it._

The thought chilled him, if briefly. Still, he knew that despite the danger, despite desperate struggles online and offline, despite tears shed and blood spilled - virtual and otherwise - he had enjoyed it in some odd way. It was something bigger than any in-game quest could offer, than any rare item or other digital honorific. It was something that gave him, Hiroshi, a chance to make a real difference in something important. Kite was now a hero in the game, but Hiro, though not confident enough to think of himself the same way, knew he had done something for good; capital-g Good, good-and-evil good.

Oddly enough, that knowledge did indeed give him confidence offline. Sure it was just a game, sure the monsters were beaten by pushing buttons and shouting words into a microphone. And yet, the slender sixteen-year-old was a little more sure of himself at the end of it all. He was a little less shy and insecure in person, a little more concerned about doing the right thing; the kind of character that comes with doing good things, heroic things, even if he still had trouble with the actual word.

_It wasn't just me, though,_ he reminded himself, and then chuckled softly at his predictable behavior. He was never one to give himself credit easily, all too eager to share it with his friends. _I couldn't have done it alone._

As if to underscore the thought, a familiar chime drifted through the headphones, and with a push of a button a message popped up over the heads-up display. Its sender, the one he was about to think about, and not coincidentally.

From: BlackRose  
"Hey there! Just logged on, I need to stock up. Don't forget, we have a time limit to beat with this boss!"

He smiled, remembering the challenge in question; a time trial encounter deep within the field's dungeon. He didn't have much direct interest in fighting the monster, but she did, and that was more than reason enough for him. His response was automatic: "I'm ready when you are," punctuated with a smiley face.

Slowly, Kite moved to his feet, and waited patiently for the arrival of his partner-slash-girlfriend. Just the thought of the latter of those two words was enough to put a blush on his player's face; old habits dying hard, if at all.

* * *

"Do-do-do doooo, do-do doooo, do-do de-de-de de-de..." 

Scat-singing his way around the kitchen, the dark-haired detective delicately tossed dry dishes into the open cabinets, sliding clean plates beneath unused ones. Dried glasses shuffled to the back of the line and fresh silverware snaked to the bottom of the drawer. Over his musical mumblings, the TV blared its evening newscast; nothing of consequence, at least not to him.

A blue plastic nacho plate found its way into his hands, still not quite dry. With a deft spin of the towel, Dean worked out the last remaining streams of dishwater, along with a particularly stubborn bit of cheese. The plate, a remnant of Friday night poker, went easily into the cabinet next to the sink. For some reason, he distinctly recalled the phrase, "Screw it, I'll do dishes tomorrow."

He shook his head and laughed bitterly, remembering his defeat at the hands of his friends. _Dominic, you lucky bastard. I'll get my $40 back next week._

The night had brought up a lot of issues, not the least of which was his not-so-recent trip to Japan - and all that lay attached. Puzzles within video games, corporate espionage, international intrigue and run-ins with old foes. Dean remembered everything in detail; he had to, for the trial of the century, now almost two months old. Cyber Connect and Asara corporations were all over the news, the big story about agents within both companies working to steal and conceal 'highly illegal products'. It amused Dean to no end how little the authorities could actually say about what it was all about, though it was clear to even the least informed that the coma cases had been cured, and the men (and things) responsible punished.

Despite the many facets of the court case, and his adventures overseas, his friends needled and questioned him about the more personally interesting aspects; about love and hate, towards two in particular: the latter behind bars, the former on the other side of the globe.

He tried not to think too much about Felix and the other conspirators he had fought, finding he could only hope that his former partner would stay in prison this time. Still, every now and then he twisted in a certain way, agitating what was left of the scar of a rifle bullet along his flank. He couldn't help but remember with that faint twinge of pain and numbness.

He sighed and closed the cabinet, letting his mind roam to the happier side of the subject - the one his friends, particularly Dominic, had pressed him about the most. Her names, both of them, flitted through his mind, each attached to a face and both tied to a single voice; a delightfully soft, vaguely coy voice that had stayed with him long after he last heard it.

Dean glanced over at his computer, which whirred quietly in its sleep. _What're you up to, Miku?_

Apart from increasingly brief meetings online and the odd phone conversation, it had been almost a year and a half since they parted ways offline, and around two months since anything else. Their letters to each other - last-ditch efforts at confessions of love, or as close to it as they could muster - were talked about at first, but gradually slipped off the radar as if they hadn't even existed. As the trial dragged on, the memories of his trip seemed to fade even as they were recounted by testimony. The detective had little doubt they were still friends, but not-so-little doubt they were anything more.

Briefly, his mind conjured up the idea of someone else entering the picture, possibly her other maybe-friend Ryo Sakuma, AKA Bear. With a momentary clench of a fist, he forced himself to change the subject.

It didn't last. He planted his hands on the counter before the sink and leaned against it, eyes closed. Questions pelted him mercilessly. _Could I even go back? What's keeping me here? What could I do there? I don't even speak the language all that well. Where would I stay? For how long? What if nobody I know even lives there anymore? What if it's just been too long for us? A lot could've happened between now and then..._

"Love don't pay room and board," he muttered to himself. Remembering the difficulty he had getting his possessions back from Japan, he added, "Or U-Haul."

And therein lay the other problem: money. Cyber Connect offered a fairly generous compensation package as a means of gratitude for his help, to the tune of a cool quarter-million; he had a hunch a certain security administrator had something to do with it. _Thanks for that, Frank,_ he thought. But it wasn't nearly enough to retire on and it had become painfully obvious that, in terms of reliable income, 'private investigator' was only slightly more profitable than 'birthday party magician.'

_Maybe I'm just bad at this. Apart from the small time stuff, the only cases I've ever seriously dealt with are... well, that._

He threw another look at the computer, standing up straight with a frown on his face. _Two months out. No job, no girl, no life. No book deal, no CNN interview... Tanaka got on CNN, why don't I get to be on CNN? I was the star witness, for chrissakes, and all I got was some gaggle of asshole reporters asking about me going to jail for taking bribes. This sucks._

Mental griping aside, he knew that fame was tenuous and fleeting, and his part wasn't exactly the most interesting one, in comparison to one of the biggest companies in the world starting the next internet crisis and nearly caving in on itself. _Besides, who'd wanna go through life as 'That guy who did that thing in Japan last year, I don't remember exactly what.'? I can't even describe it with one breath, and I thought THAT was going to be a gold mine? God._

He rolled his eyes and wandered back over to his computer, shaking it awake. The news ended, switching to a commercial as he opened his web browser and went for his bookmarks.

"I gotta do something," he said to himself, repeating it again and again in his head. "Maybe a little trip is just what I need."

He arrived at his destination, an airline's web page; he began scrolling through flight times and prices, already cringing at spending over a dozen hours in flight. Within minutes he had the ticket before him: round-trip for one month, departing June first, returning July first. Straight shot from LAX to Narita. Impulse buy, take it or leave it; no plans and no second thoughts.

He froze, flinched, smiled a weird smile and backed out of the transaction. "Well, maybe a plan wouldn't hurt," he chuckled as he opened an email and addressed it to a couple friends.


	2. Jaunt

**DotHack: Rejoinder**  
A DotHack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: And so it begins in earnest. This story will be something of a departure in terms of chapter layout. Namely, there will not be clear boundaries between Kite's and Dean's halves of the story. Both characters will get equal screen time, to be sure, but they won't be separated as they were before. One character or another might not appear in a chapter, but this time around the two 'halves' of the story are more closely intertwined. Apart from that, nothing particular to point out for now. Just sit back and try not to think about more important things you could be doing right now :)_

* * *

**Jaunt**

* * *

"There, that should be enough for now."

Gesturing to a transparent blue menu, the massive, muscular swordsman danced effortlessly around the shop interface. Bare-chested and painted aqua like some Scottish berzerker, he looked almost comical as he pointed and prodded at seemingly empty air, completing his purchase of a sizable amount of potions. The menu was for him alone, and with a flick of the wrist he dispelled it and turned to his companion. "We should be set. You said he has Phal Repth, we probably won't even need this many."

The shorter fellow was a scrawny, scrappy looking youngster decked out mostly in red-orange; baggy slacks and a vest covering a white shirt, with a matching cap messily matting down his light blue hair. Despite being a full foot shorter than the Blademaster before him, the short swords at his sides and satchel over his shoulder suggested he was more than ready for trouble.

"Yeah, but you never can be too careful," said the Twin Blade. "Plus, he's a few levels behind us."

"Good point."

The Twin Blade looked away from his friend - a box of text near the swordsman's head helpfully identified him as 'Orca' - and out at the sky below. The shop was one of many, all built beneath the shadow of towering rock spires, which jutted up from the clouds like the teeth of some colossal beast. Old, but sturdy bridges connected the 'islands' of rock, somehow wide enough to carry scores of players as they scurried about. Above and around, nothing but empty sky and shining sun.

Kite smiled, quietly checking out every texture, sprite and polygon he could see. _That upgrade was worth it,_ he thought, referring to a recent purchase of a new video card for his computer. Offline, said computer whirred happily on the floor by his player's feet, ones and zeroes doing their dance to send the images to the headset and visor he wore; images sharper and slightly higher in resolution than before.

The player briefly set his controller down on the desk and wrung his hands together. "So what else is going on?" he asked, directing the question to Orca's player.

"Not much," came the reply, Orca's deep voice sounding not at all like the teenaged boy who controlled him. "It's been kind of a slow day."

Kite gave a short laugh. "Yeah... heh, yeah, my mom's working the late shift tonight, it's too quiet over here. I had to turn on the TV in the other room."

Orca grinned. "Yeah, I know that feeling. There's peace and quiet, and there's too quiet."

"Isn't that always what they say just before something happens?" Kite asked with a good-natured smile. He dropped his voice, feigning suspicion as he deliberately scanned his surroundings, and muttered, "It's quiet."

The Blademaster didn't miss the cue. He crooked an eyebrow and threw a faux-worried look over his shoulder. "TOO quiet," he hissed.

The two barely lasted a second before breaking character and sharing a laugh. "One of these days, something's actually going to happen when we do that," said Kite.

"Law of Averages," Orca replied in agreement. Changing the subject, he then asked, "Anyway, I haven't seen you online in about a week. What've you been up to?"

The question struck a tender spot, though Orca didn't know it. Hiroshi, Kite's player, swallowed uncomfortably, cursed with a dilemma he wasn't sure how to share.

"And how's BlackRose doing?" was his friend's follow-up question.

_And there it is,_ Hiro thought with an unseen cringe. As if to mock him, a scantily-clad female warrior carrying a huge blade dashed past the two of them; she didn't look remotely like the girl Orca had just mentioned, apart from the overall 'lack of armor' bit, but the class was similar enough to remind the boy of the particulars of his problem. Facing Orca again, Kite answered, "I haven't been up to much myself. But Akira started applying to colleges, and..."

Orca nodded. "Yeah, I remember you telling me before. She was looking into a local school, wasn't she?"

"Right. She's going to take an entrance exam in a few days. I forgot the name of the school, but it's not too far away."

"Good for her! I hope she makes it." Orca was silent for a second, and then asked, "How about you?"

Kite didn't bother asking what he meant; he knew, and he knew his friend knew. "I'm just... a little worried."

The Blademaster grunted softly in understanding. "She's moving on. Sometimes I forget she's two years older than you."

"It's easy to forget, in here," Kite motioned broadly to the city around them. He inhaled deeply and deliberately, and then added, "I don't know. We've been through too much for me to feel..."

"Doubt?" Orca suggested.

"Maybe. I just don't know what's going to happen," the Twin Blade sighed, appearing the epitome of uncertainty. "She might be too busy to play, or I might go somewhere else when I graduate, or... or who knows what we'll end up doing."

Orca folded his arms over his chest, a strange, sad smile on his face. "That's life, or so I'm told. The not knowing, I mean."

"Yeah," Kite murmured. "I guess all I can really do is try not to think about it so much."

The older character put a hand on the younger one's shoulder, patting him reassuringly. "Don't worry too much about it. Like you said, the two of you have been through plenty together. And trust me, she likes you a lot. Not that you need me to tell you that, of course."

Kite and his player felt the beginnings of a blush, and he silently cursed that he did that so easily when it came to girls, to say nothing of one in particular. "Of course," he meekly replied, nonetheless bolstered by his friend's encouragement.

"Then there you go!" exclaimed the taller swordsman, perhaps a bit too loudly. "C'mon, we've got work to do. We'll mop up this boss and be out of your hair in time for your girlfriend to log on."

The teal-haired fighter's blush became a bit more pronounced. "Y-yeah, this shouldn't take too long," he said with embarassed confidence.

Orca repressed another grin, and let his friend off the hook. "Let's wait by the gate. Stolls sould be here any minute now."

Kite let out a small noise of agreement and started on the nearest bridge, his muscular friend in tow. The bridge quickly led them to another, larger one, serving as a main street of sorts. The short hero ducked and dodged his way past a thin, but steady stream of fellow adventurers, all garishly dressed in every color under the sun. Far ahead, just within sight, sat the rock ledge which held the server's Chaos Gate - a spinning blue portal, framed in gold, large enough for three to walk in abreast - and the two quickly made their way over to it.

They stopped off to one side of the gate, giving the path back to the bridge a wide berth. Orca turned and gazed off into the horizon, quickly losing himself to thought, as Kite contentedly sat down on the rocky, grassy ground.

Nearby stood another group that looked to be waiting for someone, a trio of men varying wildly in size and equipment. They were just close enough for Kite to pick out bits and pieces of their conversation.

"So what does that mean for the company?" asked the first one, a tall, lanky man in loose blue clothing, wielding a spear.

A fully-armored axe wielder, colored grey, answered him. "It's hard to say. It's just a rumor, after all."

The third man, a magician in a tacky purple robe, spoke up next. "But are they going to keep The World going?"

Kite blinked. _Huh? What are they talking about?_

"Of course they are, don't be ridiculous," said the axeman. "The game's a gold mine. All the hard work has been done, all they gotta do is pay for upkeep."

"Maybe," the spearman began, nervously tapping the bottom of his weapon on the ground. "But what if they have to actually move all the stuff to another building? Would we still have our characters?"

"I spent two years getting all this stuff," the magician griped. "We damn well better get to keep it!"

The Twin Blade was tempted to ask what they were talking about, but was interrupted when a soft chime sounded from his left. A cascade of golden rings swirled down along a character as it faded into view, said character quickly taking the shape of a young, gray-haired, black-robed Wavemaster.

A cheerfully deep and familiar voice preceded the man's identification by Kite's display. "Heyyyyy, guys! Kite, Orca, good to see ya!" he exclaimed with a bright smile.

Orca quickly joined the two at the gate, bowing his head in greeting to the speaker. "Hi, Stolls!"

Kite, standing up, quickly lost track of the group's conversation as he faced the Wavemaster. Smiling back at the disguised detective, he deftly worked the keyboard offline and sent an invitation to join their party. "Hey there!" he warmly greeted alongside the invite. "How was your flight? Did you get everything unpacked already?"

"About as comfy as a half-day of air travel can be," answered Stolls with a dry chuckle, his voice clearly mismatched with his young visage. He craned his neck left and right, up and down, as if testing his eyes. "Almost unpacked, I'll finish after I log off. Damn, but this place has been looking sharp lately!"

"There was a big update a while back," said Orca. "Lios said their development team was working overtime on it. Added a bunch of new items and stuff, too."

"Where are you staying?" Kite asked.

"Max hooked me up with a nice joint on the edge of Shinjuku. Better than my apartment back home!" Slinging his staff over his shoulder for a moment, the gray-haired Wavemaster leaned back and locked his hands behind his head, stretching out leisurely. In a sing-song tone, he added, "I could get to like it here!"

The Twin Blade grinned at the Wavemaster's sunny demeanor. _Either jet lag hasn't set in yet, or he's really happy to be here. I wonder why,_ he thought playfully, recalling the detective's own relationship quandaries. _Come to think of it, I haven't seen BT or Bear and the others in a while, either._

"Anyway, I'm probably gonna crash soon, so let's get this show on the road," Stolls continued. "We can catch up along the way."

In his heads-up display, Kite saw Stolls' face and stats appear on the bottom, alongside his and Orca's. With a smile, the Twin Blade took the lead and stepped towards the gate. "All right then, let's go!"

* * *

With a distinct lack of grace, Orca sidestepped the swing of the axe and barreled forcefully into the reptilian warrior, knocking it onto its back. A mighty growl ripped out of his throat as he brought his blade down expertly on the creature's neck, striking hard enough to sever the head and finish it off. The World didn't even bother to display damage indicators, instead simply registering the critical hit and allowing the monster's body to fade and vaporize. 

"So as I was saying," he grunted, spinning on his heels to face the next lizardman, "they're supposed to be rolling out a new class soon, some kind of ranged fighter."

Kite deftly slipped between a pair of spears, landing simultaneous blows on his two opponents in one fluid move. He slid and spun around, steadying himself for a second pass. "What does that have to do with this boss?" he called to his friend.

"Balmung said this is one of the monsters they tested the class on," Orca replied, parrying a hard sword strike to his chest. He exhaled sharply as he pushed the weapon back, breaking the lizard's block and snaking in a glancing blow to its right arm. "They're considering him for an admin, and he got a sneak peek of this thing in action. He said it was nothing you've ever seen, ridiculously tough."

"Hyaaaah!" A hearty crack echoed from Stolls' weapon as he smashed it roughly over his target's face, and then followed up with a short-range blast of fire. Above the crackling of leathery skin and the monster's eerie hiss of pain, he asked, "So why, again, are we checking this thing out?"

Orca's lizard managed an awkward crossing slash to the chest, stunning the Blademaster for a second. "Heh! Morbid curiosity?" he offered, hopping back a step and leading with his blade.

"Works for me!" Stolls shouted back, raising his staff skyward. "Phal Repth, boys! These guys got nothing on us!"

A showy sparkle of a green aura soared up around all three fighters; above them, one shy of ten-thousand in green letters, signalling the party's full recovery.

Rejuvenated, Kite and Orca pressed the attack. The Twin Blade triggered an elaborate and deadly dance of sword strikes, bouncing between his two targets like a bladed pinball. A deep slash to one of their sides spilled its last few hit points, and Kite quickly pounced on the other. Likewise, Orca chopped down roughly on his enemy's sword and immediately lunged forward, running the lizardman cleanly through.

Within seconds, all was quiet. Bodies and weapons dropped to the gritty, dry earth, the three now-dead monsters quickly dissipating into the air.

Stuffing his staff under his arm, Stolls dusted his hands together. "Light meat or dark, fellas?"

Orca snickered. "Getting used to it again?"

"Just like riding a bike, or... or something else just as easy, I guess," Stolls fumbled, hefting his staff again. "I dunno. But the answer is 'yes'."

The group formed up, Stolls and Orca taking flanking positions behind Kite as they resumed their trip to the dungeon. Clouds rumbled menacingly overhead, as if tantalizing the otherwise arid, earthen field with the promise of rain. Small clumps of rocks and the occasional dirt hill did little to break up the monotony, while animal bones, carved stone obelisks and green cactuslike plant life added the only non-brown hints of color.

All eyes were firmly focused on the horizon as the massive cave entrance appeared: a massive hunk of rock, carved in the vaguest shape of a man's face, with mouth open wide and a smooth, ramplike 'tongue' of rock feeding into the darkness.

"Hey, Dean," Kite suddenly said, deciding to drop the pretense of character names for the moment. "Have you heard at all from Miku?"

The Wavemaster faltered briefly in step, but picked up the pace quickly. "Well, she wrote back when I first told her about the trip. She sounded happy, said she'd love to see me again - direct quote - and I dropped her a line when I figured out where I'd be staying." He inhaled deeply, holding his breath for a moment and releasing it slowly. "That was about two weeks ago. Haven't heard from her since."

"Nothing?"

"Not a thing. Not sure what to make of it," said Stolls, sounding vaguely frustrated, though he kept a guarded look on his face. "Frankly we haven't seen that much of each other lately."

Orca glanced at him. "Because of the trial?"

"Pretty much. I was busy for a while, though we still kept in touch. Gradually, though..." the Wavemaster shook his head, and Kite could distinctly picture his offline self doing the same. "I'd... I'd like to believe that..."

Before he could finish, the trio arrived at the cave entrance. "Ah, I'll tell you some other time. Let's check this out."

"It's no big deal," Orca objected, stopping to speak before entering the darkened maw. "It's just another dungeon, the only thing we have to worry about is the boss. "

One by one they disappeared into the cave; their vision collectively faded to black, and then came back after a quick loading screen.

The detective swallowed, as did his character. He looked around at the rough, jagged cave walls that now surrounded them, getting his bearings. Beginning weakly, he said, "Well... I guess I just feel like we've drifted apart. We basically had to part ways at the end of it all. I'm sure it sounds kinda dumb, but..."

"Yes?" Kite prodded gently, the words 'part ways' ringing deep within his own mind. _Dean... you too?_

Stolls frowned, shaking his head again. He shifted his stance, his posture guarded. "No... I-I'm sorry guys, but I got a few things about this to sort out yet. I'll tell you later, okay?"

The Twin Blade lowered his eyes to the cave floor, nodding reluctantly. "I understand," he softly replied.

Offline, Hiroshi covered the mic on his headset, his eyes still trained in concern on the Wavemaster. "Me too," he whispered. "Me too."


	3. Just Business

**DotHack: Rejoinder**  
A DotHack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: And now we get ourselves to the plot, or at least the start of it. It's worth mentioning that while I have the specifics down in my head, putting them to print is something entirely different - and thus, I'm shooting for no more than 30 chapters, averaging about 7-8 pages each in Word (variable depending on what's going on that chapter), but that's a rough estimate at this point. However, I can guarantee fairly regular updates, at least once a week. It's strange; I was holding off writing this for so long because I was worried I wouldn't be able to keep to a schedule, but I'm feeling pretty good about this, and I can't really explain why._

_Writing's a weird, weird beast sometimes. Anyhow, on to the chapter!_

* * *

**Just Business**

* * *

"As soon as you recharge, we'll spring the portal." 

Stolls nodded to Kite, his eyes on the portal in question: an assortment of glowing, enruned golden rings, suspended off the ground and spinning along several invisible axes. No different than the countless others they had faced on their way to the large central cavern, this one was distinct by the boss monster they knew it held - evidenced by telltale wisps of purple smoke coming from the doorway of the room before.

Predictably, the trip through the dungeon was largely uneventful. The lizardmen attacked in large numbers, and with various weapons and spells, but the trio of adventurers had little trouble keeping them in check. Treasure boxes were looted and pots were smashed, but they made no real effort to hunt down every last chest, or open every portal. The boss was their only real draw, and at least two of the team had a vested interest in dusting it quickly.

Dean watched his MP meter, and spoke into his mic as it maxed out. "All right, ready when you guys are."

Orca hefted his blade and cautiously approached the portal, the only visible source of light in the chamber. "Let's do this," he said to himself, and then stepped close enough to trigger the portal to open.

Kite and Stolls joined him, Kite by his side and the Wavemaster several feet behind both of them. The rings spun faster and glowed brighter, seeming to draw energy from the air around them; tiny sparks gathered and coalesced within the portal, and a tiny mechanical humming began, quickly growing louder. The light and noise intensified, obfuscating the boss monster's form as its outline appeared within the rings - colossal, bulky and humanoid. With a flash and bang the rings vanished, leaving only the monster and its newfound adversaries.

Stolls scrunched up his face in disappointment. "A golem? That's it?? I thought your friend said this thing was unique!"

True enough, the massive stone golem - a gigantic, manlike creature carved out of rock itself, with no facial features or any distinguishing traits beyond mobility and two very large fists - was not an uncommon creature for boss encounters. Not that this kept the golem from stomping slowly towards the three players, fists raised to do battle.

Orca grimaced. "He did! I don't understand!"

The golem focused its attention on Orca, the ground shaking with each weighty step. "Let's destroy it anyway, we'll ask him about it later!" shouted Kite.

"Fine by me!" the Blademaster shot back. Readying his sword, he ran forward and tumbled off to one side as the golem took a swing; its fist pounded mightily on the ground, leaving a large dent where Orca had been standing. A painfully sharp scraping rang out as Orca racked his sword through the monster's leg, tearing out a respectable chunk of rock.

Kite reared back and prepared to strike, but froze up as he got a look at the golem's data on his display. An all-too-familiar sense of uneasiness suddenly punched into his gut; a Pavlovian response to something that most definitely should not be. Where the words 'Stone Golem' should have been, alongside the usual health indicator, the Twin Blade saw only a scrambled name and a series of random numbers and symbols: asterisk, seven, dollar sign and zero, over zero-two-X-pound sign. Gibberish; and technically invulnerable gibberish.

The scream that tore from his throat was almost drowned out by the roar of a fireball from Stolls. "Data bug!"

Orca heard his friend's cry, and spun around to watch the monster carefully. To his horror, he saw the wound he just made close right back up; polygons and sprites were twisted and blurred out as the monster was healed within seconds. A shiver ran down the spine of his player, a memory of more than one encounter with other creatures that could do the same thing. Data Bugs: corrupted monsters that could not normally be defeated, save through the efforts of a hacker.

"Aw, shit!" growled Stolls, watching as the golem recovered quickly from the impact of the fireball. "Can you still drain these things?!"

"Yeah, I've- whoa!" Kite leapt back, dodging a wide overhead swing from the golem. The golem's fist lodged partially into the floor, allowing Kite to recover and score three quick hits. "Yeah, I got the copy from Aura! We just need to damage it enough!"

"I'm on it!" came Orca's shouted reply as he launched himself back at the golem. More nails-on-chalkboards as his sword tore deeply into the left leg again and again.

The Wavemaster twirled his staff and bellowed loudly, gesturing to the stone monstrosity. Gusts of magical wind ruffled his robe and hair as a series of lightning bolts formed out of thin air; they leapt and struck their target unerringly, blowing huge holes into its chest. Apparently angered, the golem responded with surprising speed as it swatted both Kite and Orca back several paces in one wide blow, too wide for either to dodge.

Kite slid backwards, barely keeping his balance, and charged forward again. The golem reached up and grabbed its shoulder, and to the Twin Blade's horror it ripped a chunk of rock out of its own body with a sickeningly loud crack. Its 'head' trained on the aqua-haired fighter, the golem flung the rock blindly at Orca as it swung at Kite again, apparently unhindered by the missing body part.

The rock was grazed by another fireball as it soared straight at the giant's head, exploding violently on contact. Orca dodged the stone thrown at him effortlessly and ducked under the enemy's free arm, scoring multiple punishing hits to the leg and waist with remarkable ease.

Missing chunks of stone were quickly replaced, but the golem was clearly outmatched by its high-level opponents. Sure enough, the monster withstood less than a minute of solid beating before a translucent green orb suddenly and briefly appeared around the monster , the words 'Protect Break' imprinted in the air above it; certainly not meant to be an in-game graphic, at least in the normal run of things.

Kite acted the second the orb appeared, sheathing his weapons and rearing back with one arm outstretched. As he flattened his palm outward and braced his arm, spinning, man-sized shards of crystal formed around his wrist and angled towards the target; the shards, the Bracelet's true form, a lingering facsimile of the item which started it all. He grit his teeth and pushed forward, and with a strangled mechanical roar the bracelet complied. Lines of raw code lashed out from the shards like chains, latching onto the monster. The lines pulsed and stretched, pumping maleovlent information into the corrupted monster.

Around them, the field flashed and scrambled, a startling but ultimately harmless graphical effect that the other two players had long since grown used to, along with the rest of the process.

Despite their situation, Stolls couldn't stop himself from thinking, _Is it just me, or does he kinda look like Mega Man when he's doing that?_

A weighty, bass-heavy boom as the lines broke away and shattered; the golem looked to shrink to around half its original size, appearing like its more common, non-boss variant. The Blademaster nodded in approval, noting that its name and health gauges were back to normal. "All right, let's take it down!" he shouted, charging the golem once more.

Kite paused for a second as he saw the monster's true hit points, wondering why a supposed boss monster had less than either player. He then joined the attack, and between the two of them the monster was torn to ribbons. Stolls barely had time to snap off a single healing spell before the golem unceremoniously collapsed to the floor, crumbling apart at the joints and fading away to dust.

The melee was over, text bars over each of their heads attesting to experience gained. Behind them, the stone slab covering the only doorway grinded noisily as it slid into the ground.

Experience of another kind came into play as Orca spoke up. "What just happened?" he asked, visibly confused. "That was a normal monster."

"Obviously," said Stolls, stepping towards the center of the cavern. "Question is - or are, I should say - how did it get bugged, and what was it doing here?"

"It's strange," Kite murmured pensively. "It didn't seem like a regular data bug..."

A light, echoing female voice spoke from a darkened corner. "That such things could ever be 'regular', speaks as much of The World..."

All eyes and weapons turned, watching as a young woman in loose, dark blue clothes stepped from the shadows. She trod lightly, soft black shoes making little noise on the stone floor; her slacks and gi hid her seemingly slender figure well, and the twin swords in her hands gave away her class.

"...as it does of you," she finished, her narrow face unflinching, her violet eyes piercing and analytical. A thin black veil covered her face from the nose down, pulled tight enough to reveal her lips as she spoke. "I trust you have encountered such things before? And often?"

"What's it to you?" Stolls asked, distrust in his tone.

The woman put away her weapons and flicked back a lock of her short, auburn hair. "Be at peace, gentlemen," she said, her voice carrying a slight arch. "I am not your enemy."

Kite hesitantly followed her lead, a distinct uneasiness settling in his stomach. _Something's not right,_ he thought to himself. Offline, Hiroshi reached for the keyboard and tapped a function key, starting a video recording. He immediately wished he'd started one when the bug first appeared.

Orca lowered his sword, but did not sheath it. "Have you been here the whole time?"

"You may call me 'Poet'. That is my handle, after all," she said simply, somewhat flippantly. "And to answer your question, I was recharging off in the corner. I didn't have time to trigger the portal before you arrived, and kept back when I saw what it was. I apologize if I startled you."

"Do you know something about this data bug?" Kite asked.

Poet slowly stepped towards the group, raising a hand to indicate she meant no harm. "This one, no. I know of them, however. I was recently attacked by a similar monster which could not be killed, and I only survived by fleeing."

"How did you know one would be here?"

She shook her head. "I didn't. I heard instead that this field held a boss monster, on which they were testing a new class."

"So you heard about it too," said Orca.

"Yes. I made an inquiry to one of the admins, and had little else to do while waiting for a reply."

The Wavemaster narrowed his eyes. "Is that so."

Throwing a quick, even glance at Stolls, Poet bowed her head slightly. "You don't trust me. I understand. After all, what are the odds that the very field containing such a monster would be visited by two legendary players? Players who have faced and bested such monsters in the past?"

Kite and Orca exchanged looks, while Stolls was unmoved. "Come now," Poet said with a faint chuckle, "do you think there are many in The World who wouldn't know the names Kite and Orca? Your reputation precedes you, gentlemen, though I can't say the same for your doubting friend here."

"Ask about my other name," the Wavemaster said dryly.

The female fighter cast an appraising gaze over him. "Quite," she muttered to herself, a brow raised in curiosity. "In any event, I do not seek to pry, but you can see why I might be interested to learn more about these... things."

"Us too," said Orca, his jaw clenching for a second, a touch of fear crossing his face. "We thought the data bugs were all gone."

"They should be," said Kite, concerned. His stomach, still not settled, grew more turbulent at the thought of more bugs in The World. "Something is seriously wrong here."

Stolls frowned. "We'd better email Lios about this. I'll try and get ahold of him after I log off."

"A wise decision," said Poet. Turning to Kite, she then added, "I don't remember the field where I encountered mine offhand, but I can check my history at the gate and send you a message when I find it. If you're interested in searching it yourself, that is."

The Twin Blade looked at each of his companions, gauging their opinions. Orca's face was less than readable, save a lingering worry written on his creased brow. Stolls', by contrast, was a sturdy mask of suspicion, confusion and exhaustion. As Kite watched, the Wavemaster's eyes twitched and shut, and Stolls brought up a hand to stifle a yawn.

_Well... I guess it can't hard to check it out. Someone may even have mentioned it on the boards._ "All right," he said, breaking the awkward silence. "Let me know which field it is, and I'll look into it as soon as I can."

"Of course. Permit me to send you my member address; I'd like to help, if I may."

At this, a box of text popped up on Kite's HUD, displaying the address in question. As if by reflex he selected the option to accept and automatically reciprocate. A small smile graced the female Twin Blade's hidden lips as she received his message.

"Thank you very much," Poet bowed her head deeply. "I will send you the field keywords as soon as I acquire them."

With that, Poet gated out of the dungeon, leaving the three male players alone in the cavern.

"I don't like this," Stolls grumbled, staring at the spot where Poet had been standing.

"What's to like?" Orca countered. "I'm going to get ahold of Balmung and see if he knows anything. I don't think this was a coincidence."

"Me neither. I'll contact Lios after I log out." The Wavemaster gave another muted yawn, this time with arms stretched wide overhead. "Mmm... and then I'm getting some sleep. And when I wake up, I hope to god I find out this is all some kind of misunderstanding; the kind they can fix easily."

"Yeah... I hope so too," said Kite, chewing idly on his lip.

Orca sighed. "Balmung's not on right now, so I think I'll log off too. Say hi to BlackRose for me."

_BlackRose._ The name hit through his ears like a gunshot, as he'd nearly forgotten they were to meet soon. He barely heard his own halfhearted farewell to his friends as they left the party and teleported out of the dungeon. Dizzying questions and emotions flooded his mind, not the least of which was, _How do I tell her about this? I told her it was finally over... and Orca, too... everybody. What's happening?_

Alone, Kite found no solace, and not even the pretense of an answer. His thoughts, despondent, led to nowhere useful. He swallowed, cleared his throat, and started to rifle through his own inventory. Procuring a sprite ocarina, he confirmed his choice and, with a simple tone audible only to him, the cavern around him began to melt and fade away.

In the blackness of a loading screen, Hiroshi straightened his posture and took a deep breath. _All right, relax. Calm down, Hiro. We've all been through this before, this and much worse. You're not alone in this. You've got Yasu, and Akira, and Dean. We can do this. We don't know what it is now, but we will. Just stay calm, okay?_

His mental encouragement helped a touch. The tension in his stomach had yet to give, but his resolve was bolstered with the knowledge of experience; the fact that he had indeed faced much worse, and with much less.

He smiled, just a little, as the city of Dun Loireag started to appear before him. _It'll be all right, somehow,_ he assured himself.

The chime of a message, however, brought him back to earlier thoughts, of separation and parting ways and moving on; thoughts that were not so easily dispelled with a simple pick-me-up.

From: BlackRose "Hey! I'm on Lambda Server, meet me by the grunty farm!"

* * *

She cleared her throat and pursed her lips, forcing air between them in a cruel mockery of a whistle. Try as she may, no position of lips, teeth and tongue seemed to do the trick, to turn a simple exhalation into a high-pitched noise. A stupid, silly little thing, and yet she found herself vexed by this inability. 

_Ugh, forget it,_ she silently grumbled, leaning back against the stone wall that lined the street-slash-bridge beneath her.

The warrior looked only a few days into her teens, which wasn't far from the truth. Pinks, purples and reds dominated her outfit and attire: the pink, her short, unkempt hair, blowing wildly in a strong breeze from across the bay; the red, the few spiky scraps of armor that strategically covered her slight chest, thin hips and arms from the elbows down; the purple, rose-patterned leggings, pulled tight against her tanned, tattooed skin. Her high boots and the ridiculously massive sword over her shoulder shared various shades of white, in stark contrast to the rest of her outlandish outfit.

A spear-wielding character ran past her, stopping to very obviously take a brief, closer look at the Heavy Blade fighter. She had but to throw him a curt glare to send him scampering off.

_Pervert. _ There were times when the player wished she could add more equipment to her character's appearance.

The server hub around her was gradually shifting to night, digital sun setting over the roofs of tall, brick-and-mortar buildings; tenements, shops, and background filler. Lights popped on in windows near and far, while streetlights began to shine upon the main broadway that held the server's gate . The city's shops, too, lit up for the evening, propping up magical torches and lanterns alongside their stalls. The last glimmers of sunlight bounced dimly off the surface of the water, the sun's unblinking eye slowly drooping shut.

BlackRose gazed straight up at the orange and purple sky above her, hearing a trio of footsteps dash past her to the nearby grunty pens; a farm for cowlike creatures capable of carrying adventures in the field, if properly raised.

_I never did mess with that too much without Kite. _ She leveled her gaze, glanced up the street, and smiled. _And speaking of which..._

"Hey, BlackRose!" the short, aqua-haired Twin Blade called as he jogged over to her, a smile on his face as well.

The Heavy Blade stood up and started towards him, her smile growing. As he reached her, the two parted arms and embraced, hugging each other tightly. "Hey, you," she replied in a faux-casual voice.

Kite laughed a bit and loosened his hold on her. "How are you tonight?"

She did likewise, letting her hands linger a bit with his before falling to her sides; a small gesture, but most certainly intentional. Self-conscious around others, the Heavy Blade couldn't help but relax in the presence of her friend.

_Boyfriend,_ her thoughts corrected. Her offline self giggled, careful not to let the action carry through to her character. "Pretty good, thanks. And you? How'd things go with Orca and Stolls?"

To her surprise, the boy's expression fell a bit; still good-natured, but no longer cheerful. "W-well," he stammered, trailing off awkwardly.

BlackRose blinked, curious and puzzled. "What's the matter? You did say you were going to check out that boss monster, were you? And that Dean was in town again?"

"Yeah... it's just..." Kite gulped, looking at his feet for a second before meeting her gaze. With unusual weight and worry to his words, he said, "BlackRose... we ran into a data bug."

Two words and an awkward phrase; evidence of a baffling and frightening mystery that tied them both to the game, that put them on the same path. Two words, and it all came back. Akira, the player, shivered despite the slightly humid air of her bedroom, and the action duplicated itself on her character. "A... a-are you sure??" she asked, almost begged, her mind pulled in several directions, none of them welcome.

"We destroyed it," said Kite, with an implicit 'but' in his tone. "Then we found another player, and she said she saw one too."

"Another one?" BlackRose gasped, even as a tiny portion of her bristled at the word 'she'. The Heavy Blade quickly gathered her scattered thoughts, and came up with questions almost instantly. "What happened? Did someone mention it on the boards? Were you guys okay? Did you tell the admins about this??"

"It's okay, it's okay," he tried to assure her, "we were fine. Dean said he'd contact Lios after he left, and this other player said she sent a message to the admins too. But we don't know what's going on. Balmung said the monster was a test boss for a new class."

"I heard about that, too," said BlackRose. "I... I can't believe it, though. I thought they were all gone."

Kite glanced to his left, nervously avoiding her eyes. "So did we. I'm waiting to hear where the other bug was spotted, and to hear back from Lios or the others."

Her own worries condensed and compacted deep inside her, and through sheer will she forced out anger instead of fear. "Damn it!" she hissed. "Are they ever going to get this stupid game working right?!"

The Twin Blade sighed, saying nothing. "Stupid... stupid," she repeated to herself. Her player's hands held onto the controller tightly, knuckles white and palms slick with sweat. "Doesn't make any sense."

Hiroshi recognized her outbursts as his own thoughts, given voice. "I know," he weakly commiserated.

"What do we," she began, but then corrected herself with an air of frustration. "Right, we don't know what to do."

"BlackRose," he said quietly, looking up again.

The female warrior tightened her fists, drawing a shaky breath. The very beginnings of tears started to sting the corners of her player's eyes. _Kazu... no, not again. It won't happen again. Not again!_

"Hey..."

_Not again! It was over... we said it was over!_

"Akira?" Hiroshi tried, softly.

She sniffed, exhaled. "We said it was over," she whispered.

Kite's chin quivered, just barely. "I know."

Akira sniffed again, locking eyes with the player within Kite. "Hiro..."

She almost didn't notice his hands touching hers. The Heavy Blade gently slid her hands up his arms and gripped the Twin Blade's vest, as if to anchor herself to him. "Will it be okay?" she asked in a small voice, expecting to 'feel' his arms wrap around her.

She was not disappointed. "It will," he repeated, tightening his hold on her. "Trust me."

The girl let out a small, contented noise. The boy sounded short on confidence, and she could tell he wasn't telling her everything that was on his mind. Still, she knew there was much more to him than words alone, and knew she could count on her companion and partner. "I do," she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder. _More than you know, Hiro._

-

From: FMoritsu  
To: DStollis  
Subj: Warning

Things are more complicated than you know. I don't know what this business is with the data bugs, but I know what it may be related to. Come by my office tomorrow, I can tell you more in person.

- Lios

P.S. Prepare to arm yourself, if you aren't already.


	4. This Seems Familiar Somehow

**DotHack: Rejoinder**

A DotHack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: The plot, she thickens! Don't worry, although it seems like it's been spelled out in this chapter, rest assured it won't be quite that straightforward. That wouldn't be any fun, now would it? Hehe. Anyhow, as always, comments and critiques are quite welcome - this thing is by no means written in stone, and if it turns out that, say, Balmung is in fact the second daughter of a Turkish general reincarnated in the body of a cat, and not just another teenage schmoe like his pals Orca and Kite, you can bet that I'd like to incorporate this properly at some point :)_

_But I ramble. Read on and enjoy! And to those of you who watched //Sign, yes, the spiky-haired guy at the end is who you think it is. Dun dun dunnnnnn! *gong clash*_

* * *

**This Seems Familiar Somehow**

* * *

A gruff Japanese voice rattled an unknown curse word through the phone. Dean picked up enough to gather that it meant 'Now what, damn it?'

"Yeah, that was my reaction too," the detective replied, pacing back and forth in the atypically spacious and well-equipped kitchen. "We've gotta stop meeting like this, Mas."

Waking up to a shining sun and a blaring alarm clock, Dean had reluctantly crawled out of his king-size bed, his jet-lagged body still on Los Angeles time. He had taken his time dressing and shaving, though thanks to a pre-vacation haircut he had but to run a comb through the short, sharp mess atop his head. It was only upon reading the mail from Lios that Dean picked up the pace, hastily scarfing down a bowl of cereal before phoning an old friend in the Tokyo police; his supervising officer-turned-de facto partner from his last trip to Japan.

"My thoughts exactly," said the middle-aged police lieutenant, one Aniki Masamoto. "That's all he said?"

Dean left the kitchen, phone in hand as he crossed the length of his apartment. White socks padded along deep blue carpeting, circling around a stock leather couch which matched the taupe of the walls and ceiling. "'Shit's going down, get a gun, love, Lios'. He used more words, but that's it," Dean said. As he passed a coffee table, the leg of his jeans caught the remote for the TV and pulled it off to the floor with a dull thump, startling the detective for a second.

"Good grief. Didn't you people shoot up the city enough last time?"

With a groan, Dean bent down to pick up the remote. "Well, it was just so much fun last time..."

"It WAS fun, wasn't it?" Aniki shot back with a pitiful chuckle.

"Oh, a blast. That's why I came back, you know," the detective said with almost gleeful sarcasm. "I know people think it was to look up a girl I know, or because I wanted a vacation; y'know, things a sane person would go on a trip for. But me? Nah, I'm all about the whole solving-mysteries-and-shooting-people thing."

"Fun for the whole family," said the lieutenant, his voice dropping to a low monotone.

Sensing the joke was getting old, Dean cleared his throat and began again. "I just wanted to give you a heads-up. I'm going to look into this. He might be exaggerating, he might not, but I'll see what the deal is when I talk to him."

"All right," Masamoto sighed. "Just be careful. You let me know the second something's out of order."

"Will do." Dean sat down at his desk and pulled out the keyboard for the computer.

"Also, Dean?"

"Yo-ho?" A shake of the mouse; the computer woke up, the monitor blinked on. He opened his internet browser, and after a few seconds of silence he spoke up again. "Mas?"

"About weapons," said Masamoto, his voice taking a serious turn. "You realize how delicate this sort of thing can be here, yes?"

"I am aware," Dean replied. "Had to fill out a ton of paperwork the last time."

"Obviously, I can't help you acquire one. But..." An audible creaking over the line, a desk chair spinning in place. Masamoto spoke in a hushed, hurried tone, as if to evade the ears of any eavesdroppers. "Whatever you do, just don't get caught."

A sly, mischievous smile graced the detective's lips, pleased at the lieutenant's tacit, if off-the-record, approval. "That's the plan."

"If you get pulled over for speeding or blowing a stoplight and someone finds it, I don't know you, I can't help you. Are we clear?"

"And loud. I'll be good, lieutenant," Dean answered. He popped open his mail client again, searching for Lios' letter. He stopped as he spotted a new message, delivered within the last few minutes, the sender's name ringing a particularly noisy bell.

Aniki let out an amused grunt. "Heh, we'll see. Good hunting, detective."

"Yeah, see ya later," Dean said absentmindedly, clicking on the new mail. He shut off the phone and laid the handset on the desk, feeling something coil tightly in his chest as he started to read.

_Dean,_

_Sorry for the late reply. I've been unusually busy for the last few weeks, and I honestly forgot to reply. I'm free for dinner tonight, if you'd like. My treat for the would-be Bogart._

_- Miku_

_She replied._ The thought echoed through the recesses of his mind, and bounced back with, _but what took her so long?_ The same two thoughts were knocked back and forth, hope and suspicion playing ping-pong with his brain.

_But she replied,_ he thought again. _Maybe she really was busy. Lord knows you've done dumber things, and under less pressure._

That was all it took; game, set and match for hope. The detective eagerly pounced on the keyboard, his fingers trembling just a touch as he asked, in return, what the woman had in mind. Knowing he might not receive an immediate reply, he closed out the mail client and stood up from the chair, still doing mental cartwheels over a few dozen words. _Finally... finally get to see her again. I wonder what kept her so busy?_ He started to pace again, feeling a sudden warmth come to his cheeks as he silently babbled to himself. _Damn, we have a lot to catch up on! Maybe she's free tomorrow? Should I ask? Is that a little too presumptuous? No, moron, you flew all the way to Japan for this woman, and NOW you're getting nervous? I bet she'd love to! Or would that be coming on too strong?_

Suddenly remembering his meeting at Cyber Connect, he shook himself back on track and strode purposefully towards the kitchen. _Focus, Dean, focus! Work now, play later,_ he chided himself, snatching his wallet and a set of keys off the counter. As he threw on his leather jacket, he looked over at the computer once more, smiling and giving a quiet, self-conscious laugh at his expense.

_Christ. I really am bad at this._

* * *

Small office, ten floors up; cookie-cutter arrangement of furniture and personal items: a daughter's photo on the desk next to the computer monitor, a group picture hanging on a wall, a small bookshelf in the back by the window. A glass ashtray sat on the desk, curiously clean, and near it sat the nameplate of the desk's occupant.

"I'm sorry for being intentionally vague, but I think you'll understand once I explain," said Francis Moritsu, Cyber Connect's chief security officer; the man who, to date, had filed the most paperwork about The World, Pluto Again, and even Dean himself. The wrinkles on his face were deeper than Dean remembered, his short gray hair a little thinner and whiter, and both aspects did much to hide the man's true age - Dean knew the ashtray had something to do with that. Nonetheless, Moritsu looked to be in decent shape, white collared shirt and green tie outlining his trim upper body. He may have dressed the part of a middle-aged paper pusher, but between his build and his steely blue eyes it was obvious the man's paycheck lay in dealing with trouble.

"Please do," said the detective, seated across from Francis.

"During the crisis, several key members of our board of directors floated a strategy wherein we would end The World. Stop the game in its tracks, liquidate all technical assets and move on." Francis folded his hands, a grim cast to his face. "We gamed scenarios, estimated losses - human and capital - and basically figured out how we would move on from losing the game. None were pretty."

"I can only imagine."

Francis nodded. "As could we all. Fortunately, that didn't happen. But two months ago, one of our lead technicians presented some very persuasive arguments concerning some lingering problems with the game."

"What kind of problems?"

"She felt the presence of Morganna and Aura, in any state, posed a security risk, either directly or through the invitation of further espionage."

The detective leaned forward, his interest piqued and imagination stirring. "So she was worried someone would try to steal them again?"

"That, and she felt the very basis of the game was too nebulous to guarantee the safety of the players. Who knows what else Harald had coded into Fragment, and so on." Francis sighed and reclined in his chair, his face unreadable. "Sadly, I believe her concerns are legitimate, though I do not think we are incapable of handling it, given time."

"What was her proposal?" Dean asked, starting to imagine more specifically what this was about.

The security chief rumbled low in his throat, concern and doubt written across his brow. "She didn't actually make one, and that's what worries me. Nina, the technician, is a very meticulous, methodical woman. She carefully plans out everything, and she's incredibly shrewd. She didn't have any overt suggestion during the meeting; she was pointing out a potential problem, nothing more. I don't doubt she had an agenda going into that meeting. Even so, I'd leave it at that if not for other strange things happening around here."

"Okay, whoa," Dean reared back and held up his hands, stopping the chief in his tracks. "Bottom-line it for me, Frank, what is going on here?"

Francis let his mouth hang open for a second, and then looked down at his desk. "I think," he said, with heavy emphasis on 'think', "someone is trying to convince the board to sell off 'The World'."

The detective scoffed. "Yeah, good luck with that. Think anybody would just walk away from... what is it, ten, twenty million subscribers?"

"Not that simple. There are a few on the board who feel the risk is too great. As I was saying, several odd things have happened recently, and they all have the effect of making us look bad. Two techs and one of our debuggers resigned over the past few weeks." Francis folded his hands together, a stern look on his face. "The debugger's name is Kazushi Watarai. Now I knew him as well as anybody on staff, and he was nothing if not dedicated. He wouldn't have just walked away, and I don't think the techs went willingly either."

Dean pursed his lips, following Francis to the obvious conclusion. "You think they were coerced?"

"Yes." Francis turned to his computer and typed out a few quick commands. "And if someone's screwing with our techs, then there's an outside chance those data bugs are man-made."

"I see where you're going with this," said Dean. "You're saying someone wants The World to fail, or more accurately wants Cyber Connect to get rid of it, for whatever reason?"

"Maybe," said Francis, "although I don't know nearly enough to say for certain. But something is very wrong here, and I need to get to the bottom of this. There's only so much I can do from the inside, and that's why I need your help. What do you say?"

Dean closed his eyes and sighed deeply, silent for a few seconds that passed as if they were minutes. With a slow, careful nod, he met the chief's penetrating, yet pleading stare and said, "All right, I'm in. Where should I start?"

Francis reached down and opened a desk drawer, withdrawing a sealed, unmarked envelope. "I've compiled some notes, a few names I'd suggest investigating. I also included Watarai's last known address, along with the names of a few other people who might be able to help. You may remember Junichiro Tokuoka."

"Yeah, I know him," said Dean as he accepted the envelope. "I'll see what I can find out."

The older man turned in his chair, throwing a short glance at the window and drawing a long pull of air through his nose. He coughed noisily and loosely, a hallmark of a recovering smoker. "I'm afraid someone is trying to split this company from the inside. I don't know who and I don't know why. And I don't know what they'll do to accomplish this." He turned back to Dean, his eyes alight with anxiety. "I wasn't kidding about the weapon. Be very careful, Dean. Of all people, you know what this company is capable of."

"To say the least," said Dean darkly. "I'll watch my back."

* * *

"It couldn't have been me. I wasn't online yesterday!"

Exasperated, the white-haired, silver-clad Blademaster threw an arm dramatically to his right, his pristine armor and feather-lined arm guards clinking softly. His long, white wings - unique to his class of character - folded neatly behind him, well out of the way of any passers by. "I was out running errands during the day, and then I went to the movies. I signed on late at night to check my mail, but I didn't message you. I don't know who did, but it wasn't me."

His fellow warrior, Orca, frowned and placed a hand on his waist. He idly rapped the knuckles of his other hand against the wooden counter of the item shop, and allowed his eyes to wander to the Dun Loireag skyline. "Someone did. They said it was a monster set up to test a new class, and they also said you had access to it because they're considering you for an administrator."

The winged swordsman, Balmung, narrowed his hawkish eyes. "That much is true... but I haven't told anyone about the position, not even you."

"Someone wanted us there," Orca mused. "That Poet woman was right about one thing: it's no coincidence that we got to the data bug before anyone else did."

"That's how it sounds," said Balmung, hints of anger gracing his angular features. "And that someone knows about me, about us. I'm going to look into this and see what happened, maybe one of the other admins knows something about it. Stolls said he was going to talk to Lios?"

"As soon as he could find him." The player of the brown-haired swordsman took his hand off the controller, feeling around blindly for a glass of water. Orca made no visible movement to match the sound of Yasuhiko swallowing offline, but the muscular warrior smacked his lips all the same. "Kite's going to check on that field later with BlackRose."

"I see. Let's hope they can uncover something."

Orca hung his head for a moment. "Yeah. Let's... let's hope," he echoed, a little too weakly.

Balmung picked up the cue. "Hey... are you all right?" he asked, tilting his head and seeking his friend's eyes.

The player of Orca cleared his throat, forcing the character to straighten up. "Yeah," said Yasuhiko, unconvincingly. "Yeah, I'm fine."

The winged swordsman read the distress on his friend's face, and could more or less guess what he was thinking about. The same thought danced through Balmung's mind, chilling, dark and foreboding. "It won't happen again," he murmured, a touch of guilt in his voice. "Whatever this is, we'll sort it out."

Another swallow, this one not of water. "I know," Orca rasped. "I know. We're, uh... we're all kind of thinking the same thing, aren't we?"

A brief, but frightening slide show flickered through Balmung's mind, a series of stop-motion events depicting Pluto Again in all its animated glory; fields decaying, monsters made invincible, towns collapsing, events in The World causing very real harm in the other world. The images cast a dark pall over character and player, and he fought desperately to keep them at bay. He clenched his jaw and hardened his face, asserting what little control he could over his rebellious thoughts.

Orca lifted his head at the sound of boots clanking on the stone ground, as Balmung snapped his heels together and brought and arm up to his breastplate in a firm salute.

"Whatever this is," Balmung repeated forcefully, "we'll sort it out. I promise."

Orca said nothing, but stood up straight and took his friend's cue. He pushed his feet together and mirrored the salute, pressing a closed fist firmly to his chest. "We'll sort it out," he said in a low, serious voice, joining his friend in promise.

Balmung smiled, just barely, and allowed a momentary lapse of character. "You're damn right we will," he said, the words awkward in his character-modified voice. Aware of how it sounded coming from him, the swordsman found it in him to laugh, if briefly.

Yasuhiko couldn't quite keep himself from grinning, though it translated into little more than an odd smirk on Orca. _Thanks, Keisuke._

The white-haired warrior glanced to his left, craning his neck to hear some inaudible voice. "Ah, that's right, I forgot." He turned back to Orca. "It's my turn to do dishes today, I have to log off. Let me know when you hear from Kite or Stolls about what's going on."

"Will do," said Orca with a brisk nod. "See you later!"

Balmung bowed politely, and after a few seconds of inactivity his character faded away; the public face of a player logging out of the game.

_I should probably get going, too,_ thought Orca. _It's a nice day out, I feel like going for a walk._

He opened a menu and guided the cursor towards the 'log off' button, but stopped short when he spotted a familiar Wavemaster in the distance. _Wait, isn't that... yeah, that's BT, isn't it? Dean's friend?_

The magician was clad largely in green, with long blonde hair and little else that Orca could discern from a distance. Still, her appearance rang a few bells upstairs, and the swordsman had seen her often enough in the past to recognize her. She deftly dashed along the crowded wooden walkways, clutching her staff possessively, and it took a few seconds for Orca to notice that she was following close behind someone else: a Long Arm, clad in red with tall, spiky blue hair.

_That's odd... I thought he said he hadn't heard from her since he arrived. Is that a friend of hers?_

The two characters moved off to another island, just out of his computer's maximum draw distance. Despite his curiosity, he simply shrugged his shoulders and punched the 'log off' button, making a mental note to ask the detective a few questions next time.


	5. Disconcert

**DotHack: Rejoinder**

A DotHack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: And we're back with the happy couple again. Not much on substance, but when have I let you people down on the payoff? Never, that's when! Hee! Nah, pardon me if I begin to stray from their characters as established in the games, but they have had time to grow, and more importantly grow accustomed to one another. I'm hoping to build on this plausibly, so feel free to raise any objections along the way. Believe it or not, they not only help me write better, but might even impact the story, albeit in small ways here and there. You never know. Also: yes, Dean is listening to "Just Do It" from Command & Conquer, courtesy of one Frank Klepacki and an mp3-compatible car stereo. Dean kicks it old-school!_

_My apologies for the delay in posting. I blame a cold snap in conjunction with sudafed. I assure you next week's chapter will be on time, if not early :)_

* * *

**Disconcert**

* * *

"Anything over there?"

Careening recklessly on a Noble Grunty, Kite had one eye on the minimap and the other on the earthen landscape around him. Over hills and down valleys he rode, ever watchful for an unopened portal, a roaming monster, another player; anything out of the ordinary. "Nothing," he replied privately to his partner, with whom he had separated to cover more ground.

Lambda server, keywords Stalking Oblivious Prairie; a grassy field, dotted with towering rock formations and abundant plant life, and the odd lightning bug to draw lines in the night air. The moon shone brightly overhead, a chorus of crickets chirping alongside the crunching of grass beneath the Twin Blade and his mount. "Clear over here, too," said BlackRose, her voice jumping from one end of the field to the other and joining a box of text in front of his eyes. "It must be in the dungeon!"

"All right, I'll meet you at the entrance!"

Yanking the reins, Kite pulled the grunty into a tight turn and sped off, past a pillar of rock and a pair of mandragora plants. Ahead he saw the dungeon entrance: a short stone wall, concealing stairs that descended into darkness, the entrance flanked by a pair of eerily glowing torches. Though low activity was common during the early afternoon, Kite had not expected the field to be completely devoid of life - computer-controlled or otherwise.

"Someone must have cleared this place out before us," called the Heavy Blade, voicing the Twin Blade's thoughts. "But I didn't see anyone running around out here. I still think it's strange how she didn't say where, exactly, she saw it."

"Poet said it might have moved. But yeah, it is a little strange," said Kite, bounding wildly on the massive, finely-dressed beast beneath him.

"Well, someone would have seen something if it was above ground."

Coming to the stairway, Kite slowed his grunty's pace and trotted up calmly to the dungeon's maw. Jaw clenched, he started to wonder about the data bug that lurked within. _Maybe... unless they weren't in any condition to say anything,_ he thought darkly. _And in the dungeon, the rooms lock people in until the monsters are gone. And if they can't kill it..._

He didn't get to finish the thought, as he spotted BlackRose several yards away; he was silently grateful for her timely appearance. She sped towards him on her own grunty, a bony variant with a chitinous outer skeleton that nonetheless moved as quickly as its more mundane kin.

The Twin Blade hopped off his mount, and as the Heavy Blade approached so did she. "I'm ready when you are," she said confidently, both hands on the hilt of her large, deadly-looking broadsword.

Kite nodded and turned towards the dungeon. Together they stormed down the stairs and into the blackness, into the predictable loading screen which briefly took both players out of the action. Within seconds they reappeared inside the dungeon, a blueish-green stone-and-mortar affair that looked to be the inside of some forgotten medieval fortress.

"Everything looks normal," said BlackRose, taking the lead and passing through to the next room.

Kite followed closely, tossing a fairy's orb skyward to fill in the minimap. "Every portal's been opened on this floor, too."

"Let's find the stairs down, maybe we can catch up with whoever's here."

"This way!"

The Twin Blade stepped ahead of his partner, and heard her following at his heels as he started down the long hallway before them. As they went into the next room and rounded a corner, the boy's thoughts began to drift against his will. Despite their predicament, his thoughts were nowhere near the topic of data bugs, and only tangentally related to The World. Specifically, he regretted that his shapely companion was no longer taking point, for wholly selfish and, indeed, male reasons.

Predictably, Hiroshi blushed a bit, but he wasn't too shy to covertly ogle his girlfriend's avatar, given the opportunity. He suspected she secretly encouraged this; that the occasional bend or twist or stretch just so was intentional, often granting the Twin Blade a generous view of the female fighter's figure. Not that she ever said anything about it, of course.

_That'd be too easy,_ he mused, his ears already beet red. With a hidden grin, he added, _She's not a flirt... but she IS playful. And competitive._

He led them into another room, and then another. Jars and other breakables lay scattered here and there, hiding items that neither player was interested in. No portals, no chests, no monsters; it was soon clear that the floor had been systematically cleaned out. Down a flight of stairs to the next floor, Kite let his mind wander again, and it quickly returning to its earlier ponderings.

_BlackRose... Akira._ Both names danced at the edges of his thoughts, two names for the same girl. The differences were superficial, quite literally in appearance only, and even then they were few: short, chocolate-colored hair, instead of pink; a fair skin tone, instead of tanned and tattooed; a tennis racket and actual clothes, instead of a ridiculously gigantic sword and straps of metal that couldn't even technically be considered armor.

Hiroshi smiled self-consciously, knowing much the same could be said of him. To The World, Kite and BlackRose dashed purposefully through one of its many dungeons. To him, it was just Akira and Hiroshi, playing a game in search of answers and finding them together.

_Who knew, huh?_

"Hey, hey! You awake over there?"

The sound of BlackRose's voice called Hiro's attention to the wall he was now facing and, thanks to the magic of an auto-run function, walking into. This time he and his character were flustered, and he babbled a weak, "Sorry, I looked away for a sec," in apology.

The Heavy Blade smirked and shook her head. "However did you make it this far?" she asked rhetorically in a deliberately mocking tone.

Kite surrendered a sheepish smile. "I'm still wondering that myself," he said, throwing an emoted anime-style sweatdrop into his reply.

BlackRose snickered, and motioned for him to follow her. "We all do. C'mon, I'll lead."

The Twin Blade was all too eager to comply, and fell into step behind her as she started towards the nearest doorway. During the loading screen he could only wonder whether the suggestive sway of her hips had been intentional or not, though the fact that she ran normally in the next room hinted the former.

_Here we are trying to find a data bug, and all I can think of is her,_ he thought, mentally rolling his eyes in disdain. He was quick to counter himself. _Then again, this place does look deserted. It sounded like Poet didn't get too far before she ran into it, though I wish she would've been more specific._

Sure enough, floors three and then four held nothing but more of the same: all portals sprung, all chests open.

"One floor left," BlackRose commented as they approached the stairs leading to the dungeon's final level. "I don't think we're going to find it."

"Me neither. Maybe an admin discovered it? She did say she sent them a message right afterwards."

"Maybe," said BlackRose, with vague but not unnoticeable curtness to her reply.

He had a hunch what was on her mind. "Honestly, I'm not sure I believe her myself," he admitted. "Someone would have found it by now."

"You'd think," said BlackRose, leading them down the stairs. "But if you guys ran into one, then there could be more. Until we know more about what's going on, we'll have to follow up on every lead we can."

"I agree. Like Dean said, I'm hoping this is just some kind of glitch."

"Yeah," she nodded, leading them out of the fifth floor landing and into a small, four-way junction. "You're not the only one."

Kite tossed up another fairy's orb, filling in the minimap once more. He blinked when he saw the floor contained only five rooms: the landing, the junction, two storerooms to the west and east, and the Gott Statue room to the north. All were clear and empty. "There's nothing here. Unless the data bug is in with the statue, it must be gone."

"Let's take a look."

Together they passed through the door leading north. A moment of blackness, and then green-and-blue stonework as the intricate and vacant treasure room appeared around them. There was neither portal nor player, and the Gott Statue - a massive stone monument that normally hovered out of reach over a pit - lay in a crumbled heap at the far end of the room. The sole treasure box that the room should have contained was gone, vanished with its contents assuredly looted.

"Nothing," Kite murmured, walking towards the fallen statue. "Just a regular dungeon."

BlackRose snorted, annoyed. "Well, so much for that. I guess we'll have to wait to hear from Lios or Dean after all."

"Yeah, it looks that way."

The Twin Blade idly gazed around the room, once more drawn to the topic of Akira-slash-BlackRose. _Should I, or shouldn't I?_ he thought, debating whether or not to ask her out tomorrow. _Maybe she'd like to go see a movie? Oh, wait, wasn't there that one she was looking forward to seeing... damn, what's it called?_

"Hey, Hiro?"

The use of his name jarred him from his thoughts in record time. He turned towards the Heavy Blade, curious about the tiny smile that graced her lips. "Hmm?"

The swordswoman slung her weapon over her shoulder, and folded her hands behind her back. "Are you free tomorrow?" she asked, seeming to struggle to face him.

He did a double-take, and tried valiantly to conceal his surprise. _How does she DO that?! Or are we just thinking the same thing?_ "S-sure, yeah. Where would you like to go?"

"Actually, I was wondering if you'd like to, uh... to come over to my house tomorrow for dinner."

The shyness in her voice did little to alleviate his. In the two years and counting since they had met, he had never so much as seen where she lived, much less been invited there. Despite this, the boy was quick with his reply. "Yeah, I'd love to! Um... wh-what time should I come over? Where do you live?"

A dash of red painted her cheeks, though she kept her smile in check. "How about 4:15? Meet me at the tennis courts where we played last time. You remember where they are, right?"

The directions had been etched into Hiro's brain; they had been since the first time she had challenged him to a friendly match. "Yeah, I remember," he said, breaking into a grin. "I remember you beating me by a good... uh... however it is you keep score. I keep forgetting that part."

"I remember you holding the racket like a dead weight." She laughed lightly at his expense, and then smiled sincerely. "I'll be practicing until quarter after four. It's a short walk home from there. I'm not sure what mom will be making, but she said she had something special planned."

"Sounds like a plan, I'll meet you there!" he exclaimed. The Twin Blade seemed to bounce inside his skin, as if his player was trying very hard not to look or sound like too much of an idiot.

"Great!" BlackRose all but beamed. "I'll be waiting!"

"I won't keep you," he deftly replied with a not-at-all-subtle wink.

The two joined in laughter, and then looked about at the still-empty room. "Well, shall we head out?" she asked, turning back towards the Twin Blade.

"Yeah, let's go." As BlackRose began to dig through her inventory, presumably for a sprite ocarina, the boy had an inkling of a better idea. "Hold on."

The pink-haired warrior glanced at him quizzically. "Yeah?"

Kite allowed just a little bit of idiocy into his grin as he held out a hand to her. "What's the rush?" he asked in a too-casual voice.

BlackRose blinked, confused for a moment. As she caught up with his thoughts, she was more than glad to join hands and answer with a sly "Who's rushing?"

Hand-in-hand, the two blades strolled calmly towards the room's exit, only to be intercepted by the appearance of another adventurer from within the doorway. The heavy, bulky armor and oversized axe could have been any number of players, but it was the lack of a helmet and the blue bowl job of a haircut that first suggested to both players who it was. A sudden uneasiness settled in both their stomachs, and unspoken fears were confirmed the second the man spoke.

"Ah, he of fair eyes!" exclaimed the axeman with theatrical flourish. "What a surprise to find you here! I had wondered if someone else was scouring this very dungeon! Perhaps the two of you have heard of the legendary..."

The rest of his dialogue was lost on him as BlackRose hissed a private message his way. "Wanna use the ocarina?"

His response was instantaneous. "Do it. Please. Pretty please."

* * *

Dean bobbed his head out of tune with the distortion guitar playing over his car stereo, foot firmly on the brake as his eyes skimmed over the paper on his hand. A canned woman's voice sang "Just do it up!" alongside the song's grinding chorus riffs. The voice stammered and skipped on the forth go-round, giving way to the bouncy lead guitar which got Dean's fingers to drum along on the wheel.

_Wade Lee, vice president,_ he read silently. _Used to be their chief financial officer, drafted one of the contingency plans during the crisis, career suit. He'll be a hard man to get to, I better check the others first._

Next page. A honk of a horn startled Dean and forced him to return to the road. "Fine, fine, I'm goin'," he grumbled, prodding the gas pedal. _Kazushi Watarai, AKA Albireo. If he was that dedicated to his job, then why'd he leave? Frank's right, that reeks of blackmail. But with what? Frank said apart from his father and a couple players in The World, he didn't have much in the way of friends or family. Won't make this easy._

"Every encounter... is going to be much more difficult," said an officious male voice along with a synth solo, followed by a loud, "Repeat!"

As the speaker did just that, Dean flipped the page, reading more of Moritsu's notes with one eye on the road. _Nina Chinari. She made the proposal. Lead technical supervisor for The World and general go-to woman for technical problems. So where's her role in this? Or does she have one?_

"Gentlemen this, gentlemen this, gentlemen this is about combat. Repeat!"

_God, I hope not,_ thought Dean, hitting the right turn-signal. _Then there's the board itself. Frank sits on it as an advisor, as does this next guy: Toki Igarimatsu, human resources. And then, of course, there's president Hakamura. He's in Germany, not too much help there. Shit, where do I start?_

A return to the chorus. The detective sighed and tossed the notes back on the passenger seat. _I'll look over the rest at home. I gotta e-mail Hiro and let him know what's going on. If those bugs are artificial, then we've got even bigger problems than we thought._

He glanced at the clock, almost one in the afternoon. _Date's at five, I got plenty of time. She says it's a strictly casual affair, and thank god for that because I have a hard enough time shopping for clothes in English._ He blinked, and then thought, _Come to think of it, how should I greet her? A hug, a kiss? A peck on the cheek, maybe? A botched greeting in Japanese? Secret handshake maybe? Man, as if just getting here wasn't complicated enough..._

"J-j-j-j-just, just just do it up!"

He chuckled softly to himself. _I'm trying, Mr. Klepacki, I'm trying._

* * *

From: C.  
To: I.  
Subj: Observation

Two blades are in our garden, and a spade in our kitchen. I will keep track of the weapons; you watch the tool. Our shareholder shops for the watch as we speak. Make no move until it is telling our time.

- Seaen


	6. All Over Again

**DotHack: Rejoinder**  
A DotHack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: Technical and scheduling issues beyond my control delayed the posting of this chapter. Chapter six, however, will get things back on track, and will be posted no later than Sunday night. Foreshadowing aplenty in this one, if you know where to look for it. Also, watch for my oh-so-subtle attempts to merge the stuff I've made up about BT with the supposedly canonical information I've discovered about her, such as her real name and where she lived during Sign. No, this doesn't have much bearing on the story, but I do like to get the details straight if I can. In a related note, the dothack Wiki would've made this whole shebang a whole lot easier if it had existed back when I started. Woe!_

* * *

**All Over Again**

* * *

Hard brown eyes stared coldly from behind narrow spectacles, a thin, frowning face poking up from a navy blue pinstripe suit and a matching tie. "Mr. Moritsu," said the elderly gentleman in a deliberately officious tone, "I have been informed that you had a meeting earlier with one Dean Stollis. Is this true?" 

With hands behind his back, Francis regarded the bald suit warily. "Yes, Mr. Lee, it's true," he said simply, staring straight ahead out the window. The Tokyo skyline glittered and shone in the afternoon sun, with dozens of other buildings stretching defiantly towards the sky; Francis would rather have been in any one of them than in the office where he stood.

Rising from his chair, Vice President Wade Lee slowly started towards a wall, which was decorated by a pair of framed pictures. He gazed into the leftmost one: a photo of a half-dozen smiling men, all in formal dress and flanking a podium bearing the United Nations insignia, a small placard reading 'WNC Announces Internet Security Revolution, 15 October, 2007.' "Dare I ask what for?"

"A private matter," said Francis, a cheap verbal parry that he doubted would satisfy.

Wade cocked his head towards Francis, glaring. "I have no objections to you speaking with a man who was at the center of the crisis years ago, but I do if it is on company time and property. I'll ask again: what were you two discussing?"

The senior administrator matched Wade's intense stare. "I know my rights and duties, Mr. Lee, and telling you private conversations is not the latter."

The older man sighed deeply, clearly annoyed, and stepped back over to his desk. "Fine, have it your way. But I would hope that you agree I have a right to know about a potential problem."

_How do I know you're not part of the problem?_ Francis desperately wanted to ask. His actual reply was curt nonetheless. "I agree with that much."

Lee planted a hand on his desk, leaning forward slightly. He somehow manage to squelch all trace of hostility from his face. "We don't like each other. Fair enough, we don't have to. But I want to know we're on the same team here, Francis. You've been uneasy and, dare I say, paranoid for the last few weeks, ever since Watarai left."

Looking to his left, Francis let his eyes drift towards another of the office's personal touches: a pair of ornamental swords mounted on a rack, the mock weapons Chinese in origin, as was their owner. A crude, if effective way of intimidating the new blood, or perhaps just the business equivalent of a sign that read 'badass'; the administrator wasn't sure which, and didn't particularly care. "I do feel the circumstances around Kazushi's departure were questionable at best. We still don't know what happened with the supposed AI construct he dealt with, or even why he and the other technicians resigned."

Francis caught his breath, his words true enough to say with a straight face. _Had to throw him something,_ he reasoned, cautiously gauging his superior's response.

To his surprise, Wade grimly nodded his head. "Yes... yes, there are... many questions," he said haltingly, as if choosing his words with care. "Watarai was one of our most dedicated, and Yusuke and I are both suspicious of his resignation."

The administrator blinked, giving the vice president an odd look. _What's your game here, Lee?_

"I don't know if it had anything to do with the AI or not... the 'Lycoris', as he called it." Wade stood up straight and cleared his throat. "As was pointed out before, there are still many threats to this company, and to our customers. We simply do not know where they will come from, and it is risky to assume we will be ready for them. I know you feel differently; it does not matter."

Francis set his jaw firmly. "We are not as we were when this whole mess began. I admit many, myself included, were naive in dealing with the threat. But this is not the case now."

Wade slowly bowed his head in acknowledgement. "It is not the capabilities of you and the other administrators I question, Francis. But you must understand that we cannot rely on outlaw hackers or individual players or private investigators to do our work for us. I do not disparage the efforts of Miss Minako and your other accomplices, but it would be criminally negligent and irresponsible to have them fight all our battles."

Despite his obvious mistrust for the suit, Francis couldn't deny the logic of the statement. "This... is true," he reluctantly agreed, keeping his expression as blank as possible.

"I say again, I have a right to know if there is a problem, as does this company. If you've a suspicion..." Wade paused in mid-sentence, flicking his eyes at the floor for a split second. "Respect may be earned, but trust must be given."

The reactionary side of Francis retched at the word 'trust', but again his logical side couldn't debate the point. "I understand, sir," he conceded. _I guess we'll see, won't we?_

"Good. You are dismissed."

* * *

Each tap was deafening to his ears, brown loafers on solid stone as he waited for the doorbell to be answered. Beneath the leather jacket, beneath the white button-down and blue jeans, Dean was anything but calm. 

_Settle, man,_ he told himself, palms sweating in the pockets of his jacket. _It ain't like you just met her today. She knows how you feel and you're here to pick up where you two left off. All right?_

Footsteps from inside the house, a well-kept suburban two story that was just the right distance from downtown Tokyo. Apart from the house's occupant walking around and the distant whirring of traffic, Dean could almost hear his heart pounding. _Aw for fuck's sake, calm down, will you?! C'mon, you've been shot and shot at! You've jumped out of speeding cars and shit! You're the man! Bogart's got nothing on you!  
_

That thought stopped his brain dead in its tracks. _Whoa, whoa. Let's not go too far, I'm no Sam Spade,_ he silently chastised his ego. In the back of his mind, he recognized the sound of a doorknob turning, though he paid it no heed in lieu of his mental back-and-forth.

_All right, all right, fine. But you can do this. Just stay cool. She respects and likes you. Just stay cool._

"Just stay cool," the thought started to spill out through his voice. "You can do this."

"Do what, detective?"

Dean jerked his head back up, unaware that he had been staring at the foot of the door, which was now ajar. A slender Japanese woman stepped through the doorway, a faintly smiling thirtysomething wrapped in a blue blouse, khakis and a light, tan-colored jacket. One hand on the doorknob, she pulled the door shut behind her and turned around to lock it without waiting for an answer.

"Uh... duh... um, nothing," Dean babbled, red from both embarassment and a sudden, highly related bout of self-loathing. He barely recovered enough to squeak out an awkward, "Eh, h-hi, Miku!"

Miku Kurasawa, sometimes known as BT, released a low, throaty laugh from deep within her throat, shaking her head as she drew her key out of the lock and turned to face him. Her long, straight dark hair tumbled down around her shoulders, framing her soft, narrow face and chestnut-colored eyes. "You haven't changed much, I see," she said with a smile. "Welcome back, Dean."

The detective straightened his posture, returning the smile and staunching the color in his cheeks. "Glad to be back. You look great!"

A token, if honest, compliment, and Miku gladly accepted it. "Thank you. It is... it is great to see you again," she said, her voice quieting towards the end. A slight quiver to her words, an ambiguous sense of insecurity in her posture; Dean watched her clasp her hands together, subtly squeezing them tightly.

He smiled, slightly relieved by her own apparent timidity. "Me too," he said, wondering if he should attempt to embrace her or make some sort of move. He was certain that if anyone else were privy to his thoughts, they would double over laughing.

"Shall we get going?"

"Love to," she answered, a telltale hesitation in that first word. She joined alongside him as they started away from the house, along the path towards her driveway. "Do you remember where the restaurant is?"

"Kinda-sorta," he said, rounding the front of his small, off-silver rental car. "Feel free to direct me."

"Honestly, detective," she mock-scolded, starting towards the passenger side door.

"What??" Dean whined in a defensive tone.

Miku laughed again and pulled the door open. She daintily slid into the cool leather seat, the car bouncing slightly as Dean climbed behind the wheel. "You'll learn your way around eventually, I'm sure," she said. "Actually, I had to re-learn myself when I moved out here."

The detective closed his door and buckled himself into the driver's seat. "Moved?" he asked, digging the keys out of his coat pocket.

"Yes, I used to live closer to downtown. I moved out of my apartment during the... events," she chose the euphemism carefully.

"Ahh," Dean nodded. The car coughed and growled as it came to life with a single, decisive turn of the key. "Before I met you, then."

"Not long before," she acknowledged. With a glance out her window, she asked, "So what brings you back to Japan? Besides me, of course."

He grinned, watching his rearview mirror as he backed out of the driveway, door locks kicking with the shift to reverse. "Conceited, aren't we?" he playfully shot back.

She threw the detective a knowing look. "Only if it's not true," was her rebuttal, her voice walking that fine line between feigned and genuine conceit.

"Touche," he said with a chuckle. His face lost some of its humor, and he shifted into drive. "Well, as it turns out, there is something else. Two somethings, actually. First one's a vacation."

"And the second one?" she pressed, turning and studying his face.

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she saw in him a momentary flash of fear. "A sequel," he said in an uncomfortably quiet voice.

* * *

Dean had recognized the burger joint on sight, had remembered it from his last trip there; his first legitimate date with Miku, a year and change past. A typical day-of-the-week sandwich dispensary, the restaurant was littered with the Asian equivalent of TV and movie memorabilia, which clashed inoffensively with the building's bright, festive colors and paper decorations. The table where they sat was affixed to the wall, and bore a hard plastic cover that shielded the almost famous black-and-white photos stuck to the table's surface; photos which would have assuredly been ruined long ago, if not by the food the table now bore. 

Across from him, Miku poked nonchalantly at a pool of ketchup with a fry, her other hand gracefully attached to a crisp BLT sandwich, minus the lettuce. "So, something's happening with The World and Cyber Connect again, but you're not sure what?" she asked, popping the fry into her mouth and chewing quietly.

"That's the gist of it," Dean sighed.

She gulped down the fry and took a tiny bite of her sandwich. A swig of iced tea joined the food as she swallowed. "I tended to avoid sequels, myself," she remarked.

"They're usually worse than the original," he said in concurrence. "But, hell, it just wouldn't be me in Japan without something going horribly wrong, would it?"

"We'd start to miss it, I would think."

"Exactly." Dean bit deeply into his steak sandwich, thoroughly chewing the medium-well meat and toasted bread. "Oh well. We'll see what happens I guess, huh?"

"Hmm," Miku murmured, a thoughtful look in her eyes. "I trust that I don't have to ask to be kept informed?"

"I'll put you on the mailing list," he joked, taking a sip from his coke.

She smirked, biting again into her bacon-tomato. "Just let me know if we're going to be ambushed in the parking lot by someone you know again," she said with less-than-obvious jesting.

_Damn... that's right._ More particulars of his last meal here came to him; a speeding Range Rover bearing down on him and Miku, a tense confrontation with his former partner-turned-corporate goon. A shadow crossed his face, and he could almost hear the tires squealing. "Y-yeah..." he mumbled weakly, guiltily.

Miku saw the look in his eyes and instantly regretted mentioning it. "Sorry," she said softly, "I... it's... it's just..."

Dean held up a hand and lightly shook his head. "It's all right, don't worry about it." _So much for being past all this..._

BT's player was silent for a few seconds too long, and warily broached a new subject to break the sudden bit of ice. "So, what else have you been up to? Since the trial and all?"

Dean reclined into his side of the booth, slumping up against the backrest. "Oh, the usual. Nothing much, trying to wrangle a book deal, gaming, looking for work. Haven't done much actual detective work - and by 'much' I mean 'any' - so I temped for a bit. Wasn't for me, though, boring as hell. God help me, but I think I actually do miss the action, a little."

That throaty laugh again. Something about it sent a tiny, pleasant chill down Dean's spine, especially with her looking straight at him. "But yeah, nothing much," he continued. "Me coming here was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing."

"Quite the spur," said Miku with a raised eyebrow. "You really haven't changed much."

"I try not to," he replied, a small grin forming on his lips.

She picked up another fry, this time not bothering with ketchup. "And yet," she said after swallowing, "you do look a little different."

"How so?" he asked, curiousity piqued.

"A little older," she answered, then hastily added, "in a good way. More mature, more..."

"Better looking?" he suggested hopefully.

She smiled, baring a few teeth. "Actually, I liked you better with longer hair," she teased.

"Aww," the detective groaned, giving an exaggerated frown. "But I like it short, it's easier to take care of."

"You men and your hair," she chuckled, and toyed with a few loose strands of her own hair for emphasis. "You have it so much easier."

"Ha ha!" he grinned broadly. "That we do."

She smiled at him, watching with interest as he bit into his sandwich again. Cheer and charm had quickly replaced the haunted look from before, and the woman found herself oddly intrigued at the contrast; an otherwise normal, amiable man, so often and so thoroughly pulled into events so much larger than he. She idly toyed with the straw of her drink, gingerly stirring the ice as she watched.

Through half-open eyes, Dean caught Miku's gaze and suddenly felt self-conscious. He fidgeted and was tempted to look away, but instead met her eyes with his tilting his head a touch to his right. The woman's face easily hid her true age, and, he was certain, many other things as well.

_Who are you, Miku?_ he thought to himself. _Would we even be having dinner right now, if we'd met any other way?_

"You know," she suddenly said aloud, her words becoming more quiet, more precise. "It occurs to me that even though we've spent so much time together... we know so little about each other."

"Thinkin' the same thing," he said, also in a subdued voice.

Her lips parted, but she said nothing, visibly hesitant. Her fingers fell away from her drink. Her throat and jaw twitched, as if starting to say something that her mind wasn't made up about. "Th... there are... things I would like to tell you, Dean," she forced the words out, her eyes suddenly downcast.

Dean gulped. "Y-yeah... me too," he said, barely above a whisper. "I'd... like to hear them."

Miku sighed long and low, sliding a hand out onto the table. "Soon... someday soon," she replied, averting her gaze. "Before you... leave."

The detective nodded in understanding, though he didn't exactly understand. _It's touchy. I won't press her, not yet._ Slowly he guided his hand across the table, touching his fingertips to hers. When she didn't pull away, he snaked his fingers under her palm and clasped her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I have your word on that?" he asked, an unbidden smile crossing his lips as she squeezed back.

"You do, detective," was her answer, a touch of her earlier playfulness returning to her voice. "If I have yours."

The smile became intentional. "Sold."

* * *

From: Poet  
To: Kite  
Subj: Anomaly 

I'm unsure what to make of the bug's absence, but based on what you told me it seems likely an admin discovered and destroyed it before anyone else could find it. We have another situation, however. Tiloshara on the message board reported seeing an unusual creature in Sigma: Chosen Forbidden Remnant. Not a monster nor a data bug, but something else entirely - some kind of strange tree, definitely not a normal part of the field. The field has been locked for maintenance and examination, but if I'm not mistaken, you have a means to open it, correct?

Please inform me when you are available. I believe this field may be related to our problems. I recommend you bring additional help along, just in case.


	7. Emergence

**DotHack: Rejoinder**  
A DotHack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: So much for "no later than Sunday". I confess that this is one of the problems with not working out the specifics of the story beforehand, working instead off the 'bones' of the plot and filling in the meat as you go. Good news is, this update straightens out a lot of the plot down the road, and I know have a far better grasp of where I want this story to go. All I can say is, thank god I'm not a professional writer. I'd get eaten alive. Well, maybe not; I am better at keeping other people's deadlines than my own. Ah, whatever. Rest assured that I will meet my weekly quota, and that this story is most certainly going places :)_

_Nothing much to say here; our heroes get on the same page and we start to get an idea of what's happening. Behooooooooooold!_

* * *

**Emergence**

* * *

Arms folded, Balmung regarded his compatriots evenly, his back to the Sigma town's gate. "I couldn't even find the post you said she was talking about," he said to Kite, who stood across from him. "She could be making it all up. I don't trust her." 

"Someone may have deleted it," the Twin Blade replied. "If the admins really locked the field, they may also want to keep people from checking it out."

Orca turned his head away from their circle, gazing over the stone parapets and towers of the fortress city, Fort Ouph. Dark clouds choked out the ground beneath the city's bridges and causeways; a chilling wind cut through the barren fortress, ruffling colorful banners and rolling loose pebbles about. "That may mean the field is unsafe," he wondered aloud.

"Following up on leads is one thing," said BlackRose, the fourth and final member of their group. "But hacking open a protected area? I don't like this, Kite, not at all. This isn't like before."

"I know, it's risky," Kite conceded. "But we have to know what we're dealing with before we can do anything about it."

"One way or another, we'll find out what's going on," said Orca, looking down at the female Heavy Blade.

An unpleasant scowl crossed BlackRose's face for a moment, but she let it drop just as quickly. "Hmph. Just be careful, all right? Especially you," she pointed to Kite, and a trace of amusement flitted through her eyes. "You two better not let anything happen to him, okay?"

"Relax, we'll be fine," Orca answered, sounding a little too cheerful. For emphasis he reached over and playfully rubbed Kite's head, mashing down his hair through the red cap. "We know you'll skin us alive if something happens to your precious Kite."

Balmung barely stifled a snicker, watching as BlackRose briefly fumbled for words. "W-w-whatever!" she spat, and the Blademaster couldn't tell if she was playing along or genuinely flustered. "I mean it, be careful in there!"

Kite ducked his head away from Orca's grasp; Hiroshi typed out a smiley face as he chuckled, giving BlackRose a knowing look. "We will," he said insistently, "we will."

The Heavy Blade didn't immediately smile back, but caught his eyes and calmed down a touch. Righting herself, BlackRose spun towards the gate and gave a backwards wave to her male companions. "All right, I'm logging off. Don't forget to mail me about what happened!"

"Will do!" Kite called after her.

Glancing back at the Twin Blade once more, the player of BlackRose issued the command to leave The World, and the pink-haired avatar faded from view.

Orca smiled and gently shook his head. "You sure can pick 'em, Hiro."

Kite sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, craning his head forward. "Actually, she kinda picked me."

"I'm less than surprised," said Balmung in a deliberate monotone.

"Anyway," said Orca, signaling a change of subject, "do we have the cores to hack the gate?"

Kite turned his attention to the gate. "I checked as soon as I got here. We're ready."

The feathered Blademaster separated from his party members, slowly stepping over to the stone wall surrounding the gate enclosure. "It's strange that we haven't heard from Lios yet. It doesn't usually take this long to respond, even if they're busy."

"There's a chance an administrator is already at the field," Orca suggested. "But yeah, everything about this is telling me something is wrong."

The trio waited in silence for minute or two, the chatter of other players failing to draw any of them from their own thoughts. Small to mid-sized parties scampered about predictably, bartering with others and pawning unneeded goods; the crowd, thin for eight in the evening, but still quite sizable. The traffic parted just wide enough for a familiar female Twin Blade to snake through towards the three men.

"Good, you are here," said Poet, breaking away from the crowd and approaching the group. "Apologies if I made you wait."

"It's all right," said Kite. "We're ready when you are."

"As am I." Poet dipped her head in greeting, closing her eyes for a moment. "I thank you for allowing me to accompany you."

Balmung squinted at the ninja-like woman, but relaxed his eyes when her violet gaze fell on him. "Kite will have to hack the gate separately, and then you can follow," he replied, distrust still printed into his voice.

If Poet noticed, she gave no sign. Instead she faced Kite and said, "Then let us proceed. I will standby until you are through."

Kite nodded and faced the gate, activating and selecting the approriate keywords: Chosen Forbidden Remnant. As expected, a warning siren blared in his ears and a red 'restricted' sign blinked over the interface. Without hesitation, the young hacker dutifully went to work, though to his friends he appeared to still be staring blankly at the gate.

Sitting in his room, Hiroshi thumbed the sticks on his controller, filling in the protective nodes that barred access to the field; a cross-shaped image, with manmade gaps not unlike those of a conventional lock. Virus cores, extracted from monsters by way of data drain, served as the 'key', and fortunately the boy had racked up a sizable collection both during and after the crisis.

A warm gust of air blew through an open window, tickling the hairs on his neck and arms. Punching the 'accept' button, Hiro set the controller down as Kite went through the automatic motions of dramatically blasting the gate open: flashes of static, the appearance of the bracelet, the lines of code that shot out from the bracelet's crystal shards and into the gate, and loud, weighty booms that shook the very ground beneath the character's feet - which left the ground as he and his party were pulled through the gate.

It had taken Hiro a while to realize that only his party actually saw any of this. Akira had told him once that his group appeared to simply vanish, as normal characters do.

_Here we go,_ he thought, cracking his knuckles in preparation.

The loading screen in his headset disappeared, and he and his party were deposited onto bizarre, multicolored earth. Steadying themselves, Kite and company moved into formation and took stock of their surroundings, and a shared look of shock came to their faces.

"What is this?!" exclaimed Balmung, drawing his sword from its sheath. "The ground, it's...!"

The very ground beneath their feet lay in technical disarray, pixellated cracks and gaps here and there. What had not faded away was instead colored strangely, akin to a photo negative drawn upon with every color under the rainbow. A few nearby standing stones seemed unaffected, as did the dark, rainy sky and mountainous horizon. The flickering white strings of numbers and letters that danced through the air, however, left little doubt that the field had been corrupted.

"I've never seen it like this," said Kite, whirling around and taking in the unusual sights. "What the hell is going on??"

"She said it was some kind of tree?" Balmung asked. "That could be anywhere."

Chimes rang softly as Poet gated in behind them. "Let us begin sear... what the...?" Poet began, then reeled back, startled. Eyes wide, she scanned her surroundings. "They said nothing about this!"

"What do you mean?" asked Orca.

"The post mentioned a strange tree that was not part of this field's architecture," said the brunette Twin Blade . "There was no mention of graphical problems or anything of the sort."

Kite tilted his head back, gazing upward. "When fields were corrupted before, it seemed like the sky had cracked and was falling away. Sometimes even the rest of the field looked normal. But this... this feels different."

"He's right," said Balmung. Pointing to a nearby rock formation, he said, "Look over there. The rocks haven't been affected, in fact it seems like only the ground is. Like whatever it is, is coming up from below."

"The dungeon?" Kite suggested.

Orca nodded in agreement. "I don't know where else we could check, sort of searching every inch of the field. Let's look there first," said the Blademaster.

"I concur," said Poet. "Lead the way, if you would."

Together, the four of them oriented themselves towards the dungeon's entrance and started to run. Though Hiro knew the 'gaps' in the ground were still solid earth, it still unnerved him to walk across apparently open air, with little more than a glitchy, code-laden background below. Quickly, haphazardly, they made their way towards the entrance, noting again that none of the environmental objects seemed affected; in fact, nothing above ground level had been so much as fazed by whatever was corrupting the soil.

_Is this from a data bug? No, it was never like this. They were all the same... they were almost exactly the same. This has got to be something else._ Hiro chewed on his lip, losing himself in contemplation. _Maybe. Maybe not._

Something tall and dark popped into view at the edge of his vision, a badly-rendered object that the boy could still tell was not a stone tower or cave entrance. It grew more defined, using more of his PC's processing power, and Hiro drew in a sharp breath as they neared the object.

"It IS a tree," Poet murmured, at least partly in wonder. "Where did it come from?"

Traces of the stone building were barely visible beneath the giant tree, which had somehow grown around the dungeon entrance to stand at three times the height. Thick, powerful branches toward the base of the tree had punched through the stone walls at some point, while massive roots snaked out for several yards before finding purchase in the tainted ground. Not a shred of green was anywhere to be found, not even dead or dying leaves, yet the oaken beast, twisted and gnarled, looked very much alive. Near the top, the tree blossomed out into a mazelike cluster of smaller branches, all of which shivered and twitched in the wind.

"I've never even heard of anything like this," said Balmung, jaw slack and blade loose in his hand.

"Neither have we."

Several sharp buzzing noises preceded the appearance of over half a dozen men in full plate armor, all wearing helmets which obscured their faces. The men quickly moved into a semicircle around the group, partly surrounding all four before anybody could react with more than a drawn weapon and a cry of alarm.

Another buzz; before Kite's eyes appeared an armored woman, with light, semi-short brown hair and red eyes. Her steely stare and battle-ready posture left little room for humor or charity, and she gestured to the Twin Blade with the sharp spear in her hands. "You have entered a restricted area," she barked. "Explain yourselves!"

Taken somewhat aback, Kite fumbled for a second before managing to babble out, "Uh... w-we heard about the, uh... the tree there, and..."

"How did you break the seal?" the Long Arm demanded. She glanced one of her subordinates, and soon the party was assaulted by the sound of swords being drawn. She pointed the tip of her spear at him in accusation. "You're a hacker, aren't you?"

Before Kite could reply, Balmung stepped out in front of him, staring firmly back at the spearwoman. "At ease, Kamui. This is the former bearer of the Twilight Bracelet. We have been granted special access to this field, as part of a formal investigation into the reapparance of data bugs."

Kamui shifted her eyes from Kite to Balmung, and then to the other two party members. Her expression remained severe, but she lowered her weapon and motioned for her soldiers to do the same. "The Descendents of Fianna, and the... whatever fancy title they've bestowed upon you," she nodded to Kite for emphasis, mild scorn in her voice. "It figures you would all be involved."

_Did Balmung just lie to cover us?_ Kite pondered, and then asked aloud, "Balmung, do you know her? Who are all these people?"

"We are the Cobalt Knights," said the Long Arm in his stead, matter-of-factly. "We are a branch of system administration responsible for responding to events such as this. All matters involving field and character corruption now go through us, so I am a little curious how an official investigation into these incidents could escape my notice."

"Busy day at the office?" Orca suggested, sarcastically.

Kamui glared at him, but spoke calmly to Balmung. "I suppose it's too late to hide this from you, now. However, you will not speak a word of this to anyone else."

"I understand," said the feathered swordsman. "What do you know?"

"Very little so far... just a moment." Kamui blinked and then froze, indicating her player was absent, though she was back within seconds. "Excuse me, I had to sign something. The initial report indicates viral infection began two days ago, though the source of the virus is unclear."

"How do you know it's a virus?" Kite asked.

Kamui glanced in morbid curiosity at the massive tree, which creaked and rustled noisily in the dry wind. "At this point we are unsure if this... thing... is a cause or effect, though it is most certainly related. While the infection pathology is unique, we are treating this as a viral incident for the moment."

"Could it be related to the crisis?" Orca spoke up. "Aura or Morganna, anything to do with them?"

"We don't know, though there is nothing to suggest that." The spearwoman turned back to the group, her brow creased, her tone vaguely frustrated. "In any event, there is little we can learn from the tree, and our scans of the dungeon have turned up negative. Our only option is to visually search the dungeon for the source of the virus, assuming it's here."

Balmung looked at the woman strangely. "Assuming?"

Kamui gave a haughty sigh, looking away to her left. "Administrator Lios has raised the possibility that this incident is man-made - a deliberate infection - and we can't yet discount this, so there is a chance that the true source lies elsewhere. Again, however, we have no evidence to support the theory."

"You said you can get into the dungeon?" Kite asked, noting that the tree had grown over the entrance.

"We were about to teleport past the blockage when you arrived." She impatiently gestured to the portion of the tree covering the entrance. "Now if that is all..."

"I have just one question," Poet suddenly said, taking a few steps out in front of the group. "Your name is Kamui... would you perhance know of Albiero?"

The leader of the Cobalt Knights threw the Twin Blade a guarded, hostile look. "And who are you to ask this?"

Poet bowed her head, taking a more respectful tone of voice. "My apologies. I am Poet; he and I played together here, and I knew him offline. He was an administrator for Cyber Connect, though I have not seen him in a while. I thought you might know what happened to him."

Kamui's intense stare faltered for a split second, though she fought to keep up appearances. "Yes, he was a... a fellow administrator. He resigned for some reason," she said, her doubts tangible, almost visible. "I have not seen him recently, either."

Balmung made a faint noise of contemplation, a soft rumbling accented by narrowed eyes, but he kept silent.

"Then that is all I shall ask." Poet crossed an arm over her chest and bowed again in salute, and then turned to the rest of the group. "Let us depart for now, I think we have learned all we can from here."

Kite bounced his attention from Poet to Kamui, and then to his male cohorts. "All right, let's go. Good luck in your search, Ms. Kamui."

The Long Arm gave a slight smirk, but no verbal reply. She eyed Balmung once more, who seemed to be actively avoiding her gaze as his group started to teleport out of the field. To her soldiers, she shouted, "As you were, men! Let's get going!"

* * *

"Looks like we're back to square one," said Orca with a sigh. "Like she said, we can't even be sure the tree is the source of all this. And even if it is, what then?" 

"The Cobalt Knights were formed only recently, I don't know if they're prepared to deal with something like this," Balmung countered. "We have to be on the lookout for any more of these events. There may be a pattern, a common thread to the appearances of data bugs."

"Did you record the whole thing?" Kite asked, facing Orca.

The bare-chested swordsman nodded firmly. "Every second we were there. I'll burn it onto a disc as soon as I can."

Balmung turned towards Poet, who had been silent since they gated out of the field. "What made you ask about Albireo?"

Seemingly lost in thought, the female Twin Blade snapped her head up at his voice. "Hmm? Oh, he mentioned someone in the company that viewed him as sort of a mentor, a potential successor to his position. The woman he described was similar to the woman we just saw. You seemed to know her?"

The Blademaster shifted his weight, fidgeting as if uncomfortable. "Somewhat. I know her player, but it's a long story." He seemed uncommonly eager to change the subject. "I believe she told us everything she knows about the virus, but I also believe someone else in the company knows more."

"They knew about Aura and the bracelet," Kite agreed. "Someone must have an idea what's going on."

"Regardless," said Poet, "I think I shall retire for the evening. I will inform you if I hear of another data bug."

The female Twin Blade vanished amidst a trio of half-hearted goodbyes, leaving the men by themselves. Orca was the first to speak again. "So, now what do we do? We're pretty much stuck until we hear from Lios, or Dean. And I've been on for a while, I think I'm going to turn in early tonight."

"A moment please, Sir Orca!"

The call came from across the Sigma gate square, from a rotund NPC merchant dressed mostly in red; outside of a shop stall, but otherwise relatively inconspicuous. There was a gleam to his deep green eyes, however, that suggested something other than a computer was controlling him. He waved the trio over to him, calling confused attention from a few nearby players. "Over here!"

Standing before the portly merchant, it took Kite all of two seconds to know who it was. "Lios?"

The NPC nodded, his administrator-slash-player switching to a private message channel. "There was a warning that the gate for the field had been hacked. I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that it was you."

"What gave us away?" Orca asked flippantly.

"As I'm sure you are aware of now, the Cobalt Knights have been assigned to investigate this event," Lios explained. Though NPCs weren't equipped to emote as well as regular characters, Kite got the impression he was trying to frown. "While the origin of this infection may lie in that field, it doesn't explain how it began."

"Kamui mentioned you thought it might be deliberate," said Balmung.

"Indeed. Our only clue so far is that it seems related to the departure of Albireo, which is why I'm curious about that woman you were with."

"Related how?" asked Kite.

The merchant shook his head. "It's complicated, I can't go into it in The World. Your friend Mr. Stollis will be contacting you shortly to explain. Suffice it to say I believe this and Albireo's resignation are connected."

"What should we do?"

Lios lowered his voice, despite that no nearby players could hear their conversation anyway. "Keep an eye on her, that Poet woman. Play along. Don't act like you trust her, not yet, but agree to what she asks. I heard her say she knew Albireo in and out of the game, and I'd like to know what she knows."

Balmung nodded. "You're not the only one."

* * *

From: DStollis  
To: Kite, Balmung, Orca, BlackRose, nolettuce  
Subj: Sitrep 

All right boys and girls, here's what we've got. Lios has a hunch that something strange is going on inside Cyber Connect: a handful of their key technicians, especially one Kazushi Watarai (AKA Albireo), disappeared and/or resigned for no apparent reason, and several on the company's board of directors have expressed concerns about the stability of The World. Meanwhile, as you all know, there have been sightings of data bugs and, apparently, a corrupted field. It's not much of a leap to suggest these aren't coincidental. CC's in-game security is on the job, but so far they've turned up very little.

Tomorrow I'm going to question a few people about Watarai and what he was working on, who might have wanted him gone, etc. If you can, do some searching of your own into Albireo - apparently he also had a friend named Saki Shibayama ("Kamui") who might know more. In the meantime, do what you can to keep this outbreak in check.

More updates to follow. If you find anything, send it right to me, or call if it's important.

Keep your eyes open, all of you. There's a chance someone wants The World to fail, and there's an even better chance they know about us already.

- Dean


	8. Casework

**DotHack: Rejoinder  
**A DotHack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: Jamming in some Liminality here. Poor Tokuoka, got beat up at the start and end of the series. How's that for gratitude, I tells ya? Again, not much to say, although I had originally planned for Dean to put his investigation notes on a whiteboard or something. Later on he'll make a point of being prepared for home invasion, since it's "kind of an occupational hazard", or so he says, so I figured keeping his notes semi-secure would be the wiser option. Also, kindly note that while Akira did mention her mother making dinner, she did not explicitly say anybody else would be home for dinner. Tee-hee._

_Spot the Twin Peaks references and win internet cookies!  
_

* * *

**Casework**

* * *

"Okayyyy, let's see what we got here." 

His fingers poked at the keyboard, scrolling past the bolded word 'Incidents' on the text document before him. With one hand he took a sip from his mug of coffee, the other tapping the enter key a couple times. His senses welcomed the taste and scent of French vanilla, and he smacked his lips with a quiet, relieved sigh before putting the mug back on its coaster. _Damn fine coffee._

Dressed still in faded green long johns and a white t-shirt, Dean had woken up and begun typing an hour ago, pounding out a short summary of his would-be investigation. He read what little he had written about the incidents, three so far. _Loss of technical personnel, including Watarai/Albireo; appearance of data bugs; and field corruption,_ he thought, skimming the document. He felt a little overwhelmed when he came to the sections for evidence and suspects; both categories almost blank for each problem, daunting gaps he had yet to fill.

He glanced for a moment at the calendar; June fourth, Saturday. He jumped to the next section, entitled 'contacts', the list of individuals Francis had given him. _Tokuoka's first. He's been out of Cyber Connect for a couple years, but he may know some of the others. Might even have an idea who would want The World to go. Bit of a stretch, though. Then I'll see if I can't get ahold of one of the others._

Quickly scribbling down a pair of addresses and phone numbers, Dean saved and closed out the document. He moved to his feet and grabbed the cordless phone from his desk, punching in numbers with his thumb. The phone started to ring as he passed through his bedroom door, and he wedged it between his shoulder and cheek, silently going over potential questions. On the edge of his bed sat an empty plastic grocery bag, alongside some odds and ends: a pen and notepad, a tape recorder, a digital camera, a tube of pepper spray, a map of Tokyo and a roll of duct tape. The detective knew he was sleuthing on the cheap, and had a sinking suspicion the ghost of Humphrey Bogart was laughing his ass off at Dean's expense.

_Didn't even bring my gun,_ Dean rubbed his temples. _Ohhh, I'm going to enjoy this._

Click; a man's voice, low-pitched and unassuming. "Moshi moshi?"

"Mr. Tokuoka? This is Dean Stollis. I don't know if you remember me, I was investigating Cyber Connect. About a year and a half ago, I stopped by your apartment..."

Junichiro cut him off in the detective's own tongue, which was more than Dean could do in reverse. "Yes, yes, I remember, Mr. Stollis. It's been a while."

_That makes it easier,_ thought Dean. He stuffed everything except the map into the bag, then picked the bag up and gave it a twirl. "Yeah, I had a couple questions for you about some of your former co-workers. Would you be able to meet with me?"

"That depends a little bit on what you'd like to ask," said Junichiro with unspoken curiosity.

Dean picked the bag up and gave it a spin, then tied a crude knot with the handles. He had guessed the former Cyber Connect executive wouldn't be satisfied just answering questions; he had to know what was going on. "It's complicated. Stuff neither of us needs an audience for, if you follow me."

"Closely," said Tokuoka. "It just so happens I'm available right now, if you can meet me here."

"Cool. I'll be there in half an hour."

"That's fine, I'll see you then. I don't suppose you could tell me a bit about what's going on?"

Dean grabbed the map and took the phone with one hand, the bag in his other. _I'd like to know more about that, myself,_ he thought ironically. "It seems to be about Albireo and what he was working on. Your man Kazushi Watarai left the company recently, and more than a few people seem to think it was a little suspicious. Also there are some problems with The World, possibly another infection."

There was a long pause, and the detective could hear Junichiro breathing a little deeper. "Possible inside job, but we're... I, I mean, we're not sure what we're dealing with here," he mentally slapped himself for the stumble. "Wanted to pick your brains about some people before I go knocking on doors."

Tokuoka swallowed loudly, just enough to be heard over the phone. Dean got the impression the former executive was sweating, and he wandered back into the living room. "Hmm... very well," said Tokuoka. "I'll gather up what I can. I'll see you in half an hour, Mr. Stollis."

"Got it," said Dean, setting the bag and map down on the couch. "Is your address the same as before?"

"Yes, it is."

"Good, I'll be on my way in a few. See you then."

The detective punched the 'off' button and put the phone down, then picked up his coffee mug from the desk and took a quick sip. From where he stood, the bathroom mirror was plainly visible, and he caught a glimpse of his unkempt, ill-dressed self in it. He took a few short steps closer and squinted into the darkened bathroom, eyeballing whether he needed a shave or not. _Ah, it doesn't look that bad. Not like I'm going on a date tonight or nothing. I'll shave when I get back._

Starting towards the kitchen, he took another sip of coffee, and then knocked back the rest in one long gulp. The lukewarm liquid helped perk the detective up, and he took another look at himself, courtesy of a reflection in a microwave oven. Putting the empty dish in the sink where it belonged, he thoughtfully ran a hand over his jaw, his fingers protesting the tiny bristles of a thin, but growing beard. _Nah, it's fine. No time for that anyway._

He spun around and headed back for the bedroom, reaching down and peeling the t-shirt free from his modest build; mercifully trim thanks to a prison-inspired workout routine he had yet to stray from. He caught a fleeting glimpse of a pair of fading scars, one high on his chest and the other on his left flank; the former, the size and shape of a nine-millimeter bullet, the latter a glancing hit from something larger. Gifts from his previous dalliances with mystery. He'd been told they would heal and vanish eventually, and true enough they were already looking and feeling more like skin.

_One more time, _he thought, determined, a picture of both gunshots all too fresh in his mind. _This time, we're gonna do it right._

* * *

Junichiro sat hunched over his coffee table, scanning the mess of notes on it: pictures, dossiers, and semi-coherent notes from Francis about several on Cyber Connect's payroll. His pink aloha shirt clashed notably with his black trousers, to say nothing of the tan leather couch beneath him, and he smelled faintly of cigarette smoke. His short, curly brown hair looked slightly mussed, and Dean guessed that he'd crawled out of bed that way. 

He pointed to a picture of an older, bald man in a suit and a partial frown. "This guy, Wade Lee," said Tokuoka, looked up at Dean, who sat across from him in a reclining chair. "He's been there a while. Shrewd, used to be an advisor for a Chinese manufacturing firm before we picked him up. Doesn't surprise me too much that he's the new vice president."

"I doubt I can just walk up to him and start asking questions," said Dean, jotting down the information in shorthand on his notepad.

"Probably not, he has a security detail with him most of the time. I doubt he knows anything specific about the infection, but he'll definitely know who stands to gain from having The World fail."

The detective chewed on his lip and let his eyes roam the small, cluttered apartment. "I'm curious about that, myself. Who walks away from that kind of money?"

Junichiro turned his attention back to the documents, his fingers tracing over pictures and text. "It's not about the money. Some people think the game itself is a bomb waiting to go off, that there's more to it than Pluto Again. I have to admit, it's not an unreasonable assumption. Nobody knew it was going to get that bad."

"But why now?"

"Maybe somebody wanted the board to see things their way. Maybe it's something left over from Morganna. Who knows?" He tapped the picture of an officious, attractive thirtysomething woman; her brown eyes narrowed intensely, her long dark hair tied back in a ponytail, her pleasantly rounded face free of any distinguishing features. "Chinari, I know. Nina's more of an analyst than a technician, but she's very perceptive. If she said there was a problem, there was. Supposedly a bit of a hacker, too."

"Francis said she gave some presentation a couple months ago," said Dean. "She highlighted potential problems for both the game and the company. He seems to think it's related to what they're dealing with now."

"Someone put her up to it?" Tokuoka asked, recoiling in disbelief. "No, she may have an agenda, but I don't think she'd make it up."

Dean ran his tongue over the back of his teeth, scribbling down sentence fragments about the woman in question. His mind immediately began to dream up possible explanations, conjured up a list of suspects; people who might have 'convinced' her to present her findings, or perhaps the other way around. "All right. How much would she know about this infection?"

A low whistle quickly built up steam into a piercing shriek, a forgotten teapot making a nuisance of itself from the stove. Junichiro stood up and leisurely trod over to the kitchenette. "Quite a bit, I would imagine. Before my departure," he made quote marks with his fingers as he turned off the burner and moved the pot, "she was part of the group that predicted the most likely course of the virus. I understand she was also responsible for plotting where some of the phases ultimately appeared. I know the board used a lot of her analysis when they were considering destroying the servers."

"Interesting," Dean murmured, his pen scratching softly on the pad of paper. "So she'd be worth talking to, then?"

The former executive poured the steaming water into a pair of ceramic, triangle-pattern teacups, where it joined and stirred the waiting tea leaf grounds. "If you get the chance, yes. She's friends with Saki - Kamui - so if you question one, you'll likely get to the other. Both would know if there was anything suspicious in the game prior to the outbreak, and that could point you to whoever was behind this."

Dean watched Junichiro carry the two cups back over; he flinched at the thought of dark brown tea splattering on the blue carpet. "Thanks," he smiled as the cups were set on the table, and he set the pen and paper aside. "Not much of a tea guy, but my neighbor swears by it. Says it's healthier than coffee."

Tokuoka smirked and sat down, picking up his own cup. "Healthier than fast-food coffee maybe. Depends on the tea, and whoever's making it."

"I see," Dean nodded, taking a tiny sip. "Not bad, though. A little bitter, but then it took me a while to get used to coffee."

"Yeah, I don't drink much, myself," said Tokuoka, blowing gently on the brown beverage. "Anyway, let me see the rest of these documents. Did Francis name any suspects?"

"Nobody in particular. He seemed to suspect Nina, but he's working off more than a few hunches." The detective leaned back in his chair, carefully cradling his teacup. His fingers grew uncomfortably warm from the sides of the cup, forcing him to grip it up high and by the handle. "I figure one of the people he pointed out would have to know somebody who's involved."

"Well, you've got the four I would investigate first right here: Saki, Nina, Wade and this last fellow, Tokino." He gestured to the rightmost picture, a scrawny, short-haired Japanese fellow in wire-framed glasses. The awkward smile and tilted face suggested, to the detective, that Tokino was less than comfortable in a crowd. "He came in on the tail end of my tenure, but I've known him through another friend for a while. He looks fidgety, but at least half of it's an act."

Dean reached over and turned Toki's dossier towards him. "Director of Human Resources," he read aloud. "He doesn't quite strike me as management. Looks more bookish than Nina, frankly."

"He is, in some areas," Junichiro agreed, dipping his head down to his teacup again. "Business major, got his master's the year we bought Fragment. Good organizer, problem-solver, though he has some obsessive-compulsive tendencies."

"Think he'd know why Albireo left?"

"As much as anybody would," said Junichiro. He motioned to another picture, a thin-faced woman in her late twenties. "I know Saki looked up to Watarai, so she might know too. I never met her directly, however, so I can't tell you much about her."

"Not a problem," Dean replied, pausing to sip at his tea. Recalling an overnight email from Hiroshi, he explained, "A buddy of mine knows a guy that knows her, they're going to try to grill her for info."

Junichiro nodded and refocused on Tokino's picture. "Then I suggest you start with him. Fortunately, I can get ahold of him for you, get him to answer a few questions."

Dean set his cup down and took up the notepad again. He scribbled down the director's name and underlined it twice, saving the bottom half of the page for later. "That'd be a big help," he said in appreciation, "would you mind?"

"Not at all. Make them count, he's kind of impatient. You should be able to catch him for lunch."

The detective grinned. "Perfect. Junichiro, you're my new best friend. I'm going to buy you a pie at some point."

"Make it cherry," Junichiro said dryly with a half-smile. "I love cherry."

* * *

The computer chimed pointedly with the arrival of an instant message, the window flashing on the monitor, demanding attention. Struggling to stuff his pillow back in its case, Hiroshi sauntered over to the desk and eyed the text from his friend. 

_Orca: Nothing new on the boards. Anything on your end?_

He two corners of the stubborn stuffing into the sack and tossed it back on the bed, freeing up his hands. "Nothing so far," he said as he typed and hit enter. He had just started making his bed when Yasuhiko messaged him, the queries a given after the email they had received from Dean. "Balmung said he knew that Kamui offline, right?"

Hiro stood up and paced across the room, resuming his struggle with the pillow. Finally it squished into the case, which he then let drop to the floor as he set to work on the sheets. He'd been up for hours, and he could smell the soup his mom was cooking for lunch, but making his bed had been the last thing on his mind.

The first thing had been a girl he happened to be friends with. His mom had an easier time linking the two key words together than he did.

_Orca: Yeah, something like that. He mentioned her a couple times to me, but not her real name. I think he met her through the game._

He tucked in the first sheet and bounced back to the computer. "Sounds familiar," he said and typed with a smile.

Yasuhiko's speedy reply kept the boy in his chair. _No kidding, though I'm having a hard time imagining him trying to be smooth. Speaking of which, are you and Akira going out this weekend?_

Hiroshi was confused for a second, thinking for some reason he had already told his friend about his plans for the evening. _Funny you should ask, I'm actually going to her house for dinner tonight. _All interest in making the bed was gone as soon as he hit the enter key.

_Orca: Oh ho ho. Finally going to meet her family? Or are they going to be out of the house tonight, hint hint? ;)_

The timid sixteen-year-old turned a nice shade of scarlet at the message, the implications spelling themselves out vividly to him. He shook himself back on track and typed out a short reply to the tune of, "Come on, I don't think she'd pull that for my first visit there."

He read the message again, and he dared to think, _Well... would she? No, no... well, maybe... she has surprised me before._ These thoughts would immediately have lead to others if not for the message that soon interrupted.

_Orca: I'm kidding. I'm sure you two'll have fun one way or another._

Hiroshi smiled, his ears still burning, and acknowledged in text that he didn't know what Akira had in mind. Again his thoughts painted pictures for the phrase 'one way or another', and he had surprising ease in replacing Kite and BlackRose with Hiroshi and Akira, online with offline. He clearly and eagerly recalled spending quote-unquote "quality time" with the Heavy Blade in some of the game's more isolated areas; nothing particularly 'adult', to be sure, but certainly nothing his friend needed to know about.

_Orca: Cool. I'll catch you later, then. I expect details :)_

The boy snickered. _We'll see. Later, Yasu._

Orca signed off, and the IM box went dark. Hiroshi closed out and went back to his bed, pulling the next sheet taut and folding it under, thoughts of the coming evening still doing laps in his head. He had vague memories of BlackRose talking about her family, mostly her brother, who had been hospitalized because of the game.

The thought of her brother, Fumikazu, caused Hiro to stop cold. _That's right... I wonder how much he knows about what went on. Or how much the family knows. What did she tell them about me, about how we met?_ His partner-slash-girlfriend had been unusually tight-lipped when it came to her family, and he was reluctant to assume too much; he'd taken it as a given that anything involving her brother and The World in the same sentence was off-limits.

_Even now, it's hard to let go of what happened. I wonder..._ He sighed softly, his throat constricting as he swallowed. _I wonder... how long are we going to keep playing? Especially if this is going to keep happening?_

He pulled the comforter over the other sheets and tucked it into the corners, looking warily at his computer. _What are we going to do?_ he asked himself, though he knew the answer wasn't going to be found there.

* * *

From: I.  
To: C.  
Subj: Spade

Whoever left it in our kitchen seems interested in the cook. I'll have our cleaners keep an eye on it for now. Barring extreme circumstances, we will wait for a cooperative watch before we act.

- Housekeeping


	9. Piece of Mind

**DotHack: Rejoinder**  
A DotHack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: A few more questions, a few more half-answers, and apparently Balmung is a smoother operator than most of his friends give him credit for. Note that there will be a few red herrings here and there, which is a given considering the number of ways crazy stuff can happen in an online video game designed by a creepy old German guy. However, even those have their purpose; even when the good guys are getting jerked around, there is evidence to be found, if you know where to look. Anyhow, super happy fun-time Kite-BlackRose stuff to occur in the next chapter, and for a sizable chunk of the following chapter. You have been warned :)_

* * *

**Piece of Mind**

* * *

Tokino "Toki" Igarimatsu sat by himself on the sidewalk bench; beige long-sleeve shirt tucked into his black, neatly-pressed trousers, concealing the thin body that his narrow face suggested. The traffic before him flowed steadily, noisily, human and vehicle passing by under the bright, cloudless sky and afternoon sun. He ate quietly from the cup of noodles in his hand, deftly wielding his chopsticks with an odd sort of grace, as if extensions of his own fingers. His right shoe - black, leather - tapped constantly, anxiously. It was only when he glanced at his watch that he saw the approaching detective, dressed in the off-green windbreaker and blue jeans that Junichio had described to him. 

"Mr. Igarimatsu?" asked Dean, nodding to the short-haired Cyber Connect executive.

"Yes? That's me," Tokino replied. "You are... Mr. Stollis? Dean Stollis?"

"Yes sir."

Tokino faced the street again, and scooted over to make room on the bench. "Have a seat, detective."

Dean did so, groaning slightly as he relaxed on the hard blue plastic. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I understand you've got things to do, so I'll keep this brief."

"I'm told you had, uh, a-a few questions for me," Tokino said haltingly, toying with a few noodles in his cup. "I suppose you're going to ask about the current... um... the, uh..."

"Yeah, that," said Dean. He unzipped his jacket and produced his pen and notepad. "I'm here mostly to ask about one of your ex-administrators, Kazushi Watarai, though if you don't mind I'd like to know what your thoughts are on this latest problem."

The shorter man brought a noodle up to his lips, and sucked it in with a soft slurping sound. He chewed almost soundlessly for a second, and then swallowed. "There isn't much you don't know already, if what I was told was accurate. So far it has remained in the field where it originated, though we are getting reports of data bugs elsewhere. Our staff is working overtime to locate the source of the problem."

"It seems to be a different problem than the previous one," said Dean, obviously dancing around the use of the words 'infection' and 'The World' in public.

"It seems to be," Tokino parroted. "I do not share the beliefs of some, however. It may yet be something else, something Harald didn't tell us about. It is far less problematic than our previous one, I can assure you. So far, at least, we have had no reported injuries. I suspect we shall find out in the next few days what this is all about."

"Let's hope that we do." Dean glanced up the street, following a bus-borne advertisement for some obscure TV show. "Now, about Watarai."

"Yes... about him," said the diminutive director, clearing his throat. "I don't know what exactly he was working on, if that's why you're here. His stated reasons for leaving were unconvincing. He cited some personal and family issues - an ailing father and a lack of other family to care for him - but didn't go into detail. He left for Osaka, though I don't recall where exactly. I suspect why he truly left had to do with his work, although again I don't know what he was tasked with."

"Hmm," Dean quickly scratched down the details, abbreviating a few words to keep from using too much of the page. "Did he have any enemies in the company, anybody that would've liked to see him go?"

"Not that I know of," said Tokino. "He was... he was not exactly a charismatic individual, but he was driven, and dedicated to his work. The board of directors generally respected and appreciated his work, as did his fellow administrators. Two in particular looked up to him. I understand Junichiro mentioned Ms. Chinari and Ms. Shibayama?"

"Yeah, he said they might have some input on who or whatever's causing this, and Saki would know more about Watarai."

Tokino gulped down a few more noodles, then let the sticks rest in the cup. "That they would," he said, dabbing his lips with a napkin. "In any case, detective, consider the implications if Mr. Watarai did indeed leave because of something work-related."

Dean turned a page in his notebook and continued scribbling. "I'm listening."

"What would it take for a man, dedicated above all to the preservation of the game and the safety of its inhabitants... what it would it take to drive him away? What would he have to have seen? What must have happened to him?" The thin fellow turned his head to his left, glancing at Dean out the corner of sky blue eyes. "I've read a bit about you in the papers. You... you yourself are quite tenacious, despite all you endured here. What would it... take... to scare you off?"

Something about the director's tone rubbed Dean the wrong way; perhaps the strategic pause around the word 'take', perhaps that his right foot was fidgeting a bit. "Is that a rhetorical question?" the detective asked, the barest hint of offense in his tone.

Tokino coughed and looked straight forward, avoiding Dean's probing gaze. "Don't be paranoid, detective. I'm trying to help. I'm asking you to think what it would take to scare away someone like that. To think what would force a man not easily deterred to flee, with only the flimsiest of excuses no less." He picked up the chopsticks again, working them into a comfortable position between his thumb and forefinger.

The statement seemed honest enough, but Dean wasn't completely convinced. _Let's test the 'man-made' theory some more._ "Angry men with guns sometimes have that effect on people."

"T-true, that is true," Tokino shifted uncomfortably, his shirt and hair ruffling messily under a sudden strong breeze. "But angry men with guns can't follow you wherever you go, and Watarai has little in the way of friends or family who could be threatened in his place."

"Unless said guys with guns are working for the same people," Dean pointedly suggested.

The director stiffened and glared sharply at the detective. "Mr. Stollis, Cyber Connect does not coerce its own employees."

Dean didn't flinch, but lost his cool as he icily replied, "Just ex-employees and the occasional gaijin, huh?"

Tokino clenched the hand holding the cup, squeezing and just barely crumpling the cup of noodles. "I believe we're done here," he said curtly.

_Fuck! Damn it, too far. Way to go, Dean._ He sighed and clicked his pen shut, pocketing it with the notebook. "Sorry... thanks for your time, Mr. Igarimatsu," he said weakly as he stood up.

The detective had turned to leave, but stopped in his tracks when Tokino spoke again. "Mr. Stollis."

"Yeah?"

Tokino looked up at the detective, anger still on his narrow face, but fading fast. "Don't let your past color your present. Neither the company nor myself are your enemy here."

Dean's lips were pressed into a thin line, his eyes devoid of trust but showing some shame from his verbal slip. "I'd like to believe that."

The director tossed his napkin into the noodle cup, and dumped both into a nearby trash bin. "You may be able to catch Saki online this time of day, though not as an administrator. Chinari I believe is busy for most of today, but if it will abate your suspicions I can arrange for you to meet."

Dean's brow creased in doubt, waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop, but he quickly forced himself to drop the overt hostility. "I would appreciate that," he said, as calmly as he could muster. "Again, I'm sorry, it's just..."

Tokino shook his head and held up a hand, cutting him off. "I know... detective, I know. Consider this an apology on behalf of the company, an act of good faith if you will. She frequents a karaoke bar in Yokohama, be there around seven tonight. I'll make the arrangements."

_Good faith, huh? We'll see about that,_ he thought. "Thank you. Tell me the address and I'll be there."

* * *

"We searched every floor systematically. The rooms were visually distorted, as was the case with the prior infection, but apart from that the dungeon functioned normally. Most of the portals had been triggered, but some were still standing when we went through, and responded normally upon being approached." 

Standing with arms akimbo, Balmung stared blankly at the brunette Long Arm before him; the only female occupant of the nondescript private room where he, Kite and Orca now stood. "So the roots weren't anywhere to be found in the dungeon itself?"

"Not a trace," said Kamui. "As far as we can tell it's just something on the outside of the dungeon."

"This whole thing doesn't make an ounce of sense," Orca frowned. "What's causing this? Why is the tree even there?"

"It seems to be incomplete," the Long Arm nodded to the Azure Sea. "As if whatever infected the field didn't have time to finish, or failed somehow. If it's a virus, it's not nearly as dangerous as Pluto Again. Players who've been defeated by Data Bugs are not harmed offline."

"That's a relief," Kite sighed. "But where do we go from here?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Kamui replied. "Until ambulatory symptoms begin to manifest, the Cobalt Knights are limited in what we can do."

Orca blinked in confusion. Rather than ask aloud, he shot a private message to the rest of his party; normally visible to admins, though he'd been told Kamui was off-duty at the moment. _What does that mean?_

_It means they can't attack it inside The World until the system interprets it as a creature,_ Balmung answered. _Like with the Phases. Administrators can't fight an infection until it's interfering with the game itself._

_That means I won't be able to use the bracelet, unless it's a Data Bug. Or something else, _Kite messaged. "So it can only be fixed offline?"

Kamui glanced down at the Twin Blade. "For now. We're working on it."

"Stolls seems to think this is all related to Albireo somehow," said Balmung.

The Long Arm turned sharply towards the feathered Blademaster, an unusually focused look to her eyes. "Yes. And that Poet woman mentioned him as well. He mentioned, in a roundabout way, that he encountered something strange in the system, something separate from the Pluto Again situation."

"What was it?" asked Balmung.

"A bizarre character. Some sort of rudimentary autonomous program; possibly an AI, but not like Aura. The name 'Lycoris' came up a lot, though he didn't share all the details with me. What I want to know is how Poet knows Albireo. He worked with a few players, including you two," she motioned to Orca and Balmung. "But Poet's registration date is fairly recent."

"You looked into her already?" asked Orca, slightly surprised.

"As I said, Albireo left for a reason I don't fully understand. If she knows who he is, she may know something about Lycoris. I searched through our database and came across the player's account. The name and address appear to be fake, but she is a paying member"

"So it could be one of his friends from before, under a different name," said Kite.

"Could it have been someone else at the company?" Balmung suggested. "One of his co-workers?"

Kamui shook her head vigorously. "Doubtful. The only two people who knew him well enough on staff were myself and one other administrator. And she stopped by my desk yesterday, while I was talking with you all."

"That leaves his friends in the game," said Orca.

The off-duty administrator nodded. "He mentioned one by name, the character Hokuto. Her account was cancelled not long ago, and I believe they were actually quite close offline. She was also a beta tester for Fragment."

The Azure Sky palmed a fist with his other hand, squeezing gently as his mind worked. "It's as good a guess as any. Can you get at least an email address for this Hokuto?"

Kamui rolled her eyes, and then shot the Blademaster a stern look. "I've told you all far more than I should have already, even if one of you is going to become an administrator. I could get fired if I divulged a customer's information, or worse! Not a chance, Balmung."

"What about her inactive account?" asked the brown-haired Blademaster. "She's not technically a customer under that name anymore, right?"

"That is the weakest attempt at a loophole I have ever heard. No, it does not work that way. Past or present, customer information is private. No exceptions," she stared at Balmung, "not even for you."

"Wait, wait," Kite urged, cutting in between the three of them, an idea suddenly coming to the Twin Blade. "You said she was with the group that tested Fragment, right?"

"Yes, what about it?"

Hiro's eyes flicked down to the in-game clock, his thoughts temporarily derailed by offline events to come. _Don't have much time, I better get ready to go soon._ "But she didn't work for the company?"

Kamui peered oddly at the aqua-haired fighter. "Few did, it was an open beta. What are you getting at?"

"Well, she was a regular player then, right?" Kite asked. "That means she'd have a profile for the forums."

"If she registered for the forums," said Kamui. "Not all players do."

"But it would still be tied to an email address," Balmung picked up, Kite's idea coming to him as well. "And there may be other contact information in her profile. A lot of Fragment players posted their experiences with the beta early on, and even if they didn't post later on those accounts would still be in the system."

"So there's a chance she's on the board somewhere," said Orca. "Her main account might be gone, but she might have some other way to get in touch with her: another email address, or an IM program."

Kamui folded her arms and scoffed, but conceded the point. "It's a long shot... but yes, if she has a board profile, it would still be listed publicly."

"Then let's do some searching," said Orca with a smile. The smile grew into a toothless grin as he looked over at Kite and added, "except for you, I know you have to get going pretty soon."

"Y-yeah," Kite mumbled, turning away shyly. "I was just about to say..."

"It's fine," Orca reassured him. "Balmung and I will search the boards and keep you posted. I wouldn't keep her waiting if I were you."

The Twin Blade chuckled and smiled back, not blushing but obviously a little embarrassed. "All right, then I'll see you guys later! Kamui, thank you for your help!"

The Long Arm smirked a little, and flicked her eyes towards Balmung to find him looking right back at her. "Thank the Azure Sky here," she said simply. "He has a certain... way with words."

"You don't say," quipped the Azure Sea in a telling deadpan.


	10. A Step Outside

**DotHack: Rejoinder**

A DotHack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: Yes, I'm still alive!_

_I owe you all an apology. In fairness, I finally found a job, albeit a rather demanding one that ate up a lot of free time, to say nothing of my energy. I'm also writing for a blog/gaming news website, RandomNPC. But that's sort of beside the point; the more I put the story off, the harder it was to come back to it. I got lazy and there's pretty much no other way to put it. False start after false start, you know?_

_In any case, I'm back in business, hopefully to stay this time. Here's where we finally get to Hiro meeting Akira's family. Those of you who've read Another Birth will spot some familiar faces :)_

* * *

A Step Outside

* * *

Hiro trod slowly along the sidewalk, unconsciously timing his steps to avoid the cracks. His destination lay in sight: the chain-link door to the fenced-off tennis court. He couldn't immediately spot Akira amid the bustle of teenagers, instead he sought out court number four, where he'd been told to wait. He saw three girls in workout clothes occupying the court in question, two practicing and one acting as referee. None of them looked enough like Akira from where he stood, though the referee heard the gate shut behind him and waved him over.

"Excuse me!" she called as he approached. "Are you Hiroshi?"

A vague look of surprise crossed his face, though he quickly surmised who these three were. "Yes," he said with a hint of nervous formality. "Are you friends of Akira?"

The two practicing girls stopped their game to gather around him. "Yeah, she said you might show up soon." The ref smiled and brushed back a few bangs of her short hair. She motioned to the clubhouse beyond the court fence, adding, "Akira is changing, she'll be right back."

"Ah, good." Hiro cleared his throat and valiantly to shed his nervousness at having three girls standing around him. "On time for once!" he said in joking self-deprecation, discomfort escaping with his words. The girls giggled in near-unison, and Hiro felt the unease pop right back.

"I'm Risa," said the ref, who then gestured to her friends. "This is Shouko and Yuuko. It's nice to finally meet you!"

"Yeah, Akira hasn't told us that much about you," said the long-haired Shouko, a faint and inquisitive smile on her lips. "We didn't even know she played The World for a while."

"Or that she had any male friends," the brown-haired Yuuko quipped, then coughed as Shouko elbowed her gently in the gut. Throwing a hurt look at her taller friend, she muttered, "Well, it's true!"

Shouko rolled her eyes in dismissal, then turned her attention back to Hiro. "Anyway, she hasn't told us much, apart from who to look for."

_She didn't tell me to expect her friends, either,_ Hiro thought, swallowing discreetly. Despite himself, he started to relax a bit. Briefly he pictured the girls as a token bickering trio from some poorly-written dating sim game - not that Hiro had ever played one, or at least none that he would admit to. "It's nice to meet you all, too. Akira didn't tell me much either, except about her brother Kazu."

He wanted the words back as soon as he said them, fearing they had all been kept in the dark about Kazu's coma, or the extent of the problems with The World. He fought down a sigh of relief as Risa nodded in acknowledgment.

"It's terrible, isn't it?" said Risa, her face falling. "She tried so hard to keep up appearances at school and everything."

"She still was the top player on the team," said Yuuko. "I don't know how she did it with her brother in the hospital."

Hiro nodded grimly, reminded intimately of his own struggle to save Yasuhiko. "She's strong... stronger than even she knows," he mused. With a careful pause, he added, "I knew her through the game, and she was just like that online. All determined and strong on the outside..."

The girls murmured in agreement, silently finishing his sentence.

"So, you play The World, too?" asked Shouko, changing the subject.

"Yeah, a little," was Hiro's reply, a deliberate understatement. "My friend Yasuhiko introduced me to the game, and I met Akira not long after."

"I play as well, I'm a Wavemaster. Who do you play as?" Shouko blinked, then tilted her head slightly to her left. "If you don't mind, I mean."

Hiro's mind scrambled for a believable line to stall with, reluctant to cash in on in-game fame; he found none at the ready. "I... uh, well, I'm Kite, a Twin Blade."

"Ahh, that sounds familiar," said Shouko. "I think I've heard of you before."

"Y-yeah, I played a lot for a while," said Hiroshi, racking his brain for a way to explain what he and his friends went through. He wrung his hands together, squeezing sweaty palms against trembling fingers. "W-we, uh, we went through a few events together... me and Black... I mean, Akira."

"She sounds like she's rather fond of you," said Risa with a knowing giggle, clearly implying there was a lot more to the story.

"And after all the work we put into hooking her up with Hagiya," Yuuko grumbled with a shake of her head, resting her racket over her shoulder.

Hiro tried mightily not to jump to any conclusions, but it was in vain. Faint tendrils of jealousy wound their way into him, and it showed, albeit barely. He wasn't sure whether the name-drop had been intentional or not, but it was more than enough to bring some color to his cheeks and ears.

Shouko rammed her elbow into Yuuko's side again, shooting her fellow dating sim triplet a stern look.

"Hey, it wasn't only my idea!" Yuuko whined, recoiling from Shouko's sudden strike and nursing her injury.

Risa snorted and met Hiro's questioning stare, noting the confusion in his eyes. "A while back this guy asked her out, and someone," she glanced at her cohorts for emphasis, "had the brilliant idea to help them get together."

Hiro was glad Risa hadn't waited to answer his unspoken question, nervous enough by the mere presence of Akira's friends. "So... what happened?" he asked instead. The logical part of his brain reasoned that their plan had gone off the rails at some point. _Akira wouldn't go for this sort of thing without a fight._

"She honestly never seemed interested," said Yuuko. "At the time we just thought it was because of her brother. But sometimes she'd act like she had someone else on her mind."

"Yeah, I caught her daydreaming a few times," Shouko chimed in. "She had this faraway look to her, sometimes she even smiled, apparently at nothing."

His thoughts did a sharp 180. "R-really?" he asked incredulously, his mind way ahead of him and painting a charming picture of Akira lost in thought; a schoolgirl with a dreamy smile, gazing longingly at the window. A small smile grew onto his face, lingering doubts and fears almost instantly squelched.

Risa chuckled softly. "In hindsight, it makes sense. She already had somebody, didn't she?"

Hiro's blush hadn't gone away, though now the color was welcome. "Well... y-yeah," he shyly admitted, prompting a chorus of girlish giggling from his audience.

"So when did you two start going out?" Yuuko noisily asked, drawing no rebuke from her elbow-happy partner. "Were you the guy she was going to meet on Valentine's Day last year?"

"Oh yeah!" Shouko snapped her fingers. "I know she got chocolate for somebody that day..."

Hiroshi all but wilted beneath their amused inquiries, but was saved before he could open his mouth by a voice from the court gate. "Hey! There you are!"

All four turned to see Akira approach, dressed in plain shorts and a purple t-shirt, racket sheathed in one hand and satchel over her shoulder. Though she smiled, the arch in her brow suggested she was less than pleased with her friends' obvious grilling of Hiro; to say nothing of what either party might say about her in her absence.

Still, the good-natured grins back at her told her that no harm had been done. "We were just getting acquainted," said Risa.

"So this is who you've been hiding from us!" Yuuko grinned.

"Yeah, yeah," Akira said dismissively, standing next to Hiro. "It's kinda complicated."

_To say the least,_ thought Hiro. Swallowing, he spoke up and said, "Anyway, I'm ready when you are."

She brightened immediately. "Great! Shall we?" she asked, motioning for him to follow.

"It was nice to meet you all," said Hiro, politely, if awkwardly, disengaging from the small group of girls. "Take care!"

The three cheerfully bade farewell to Akira and Hiroshi, waving as they headed for the exit.

"Sorry about the wait," said Akira, leading Hiro through the gate. The tone of her voice hinted she was sorrier about leaving him at the mercy of her inquisitive friends.

"It's no problem," he assured her. "I didn't know your friends played The World, too."

Akira shrugged a shoulder, adjusting her satchel. "Just Shouko. She and I didn't know each other in-game until after everything was over."

"I see," Hiro nodded. As they headed for a nearby bike rack, he said, "I didn't tell them too much, just that we met in the game."

Her cheer had faded rapidly, and she nodded with a vaguely grim cast to her face. "Yuuko helped me with some parts of the Epitaph. She didn't play the game, but I told her about it, and we both agreed... well..."

"You didn't want to endanger anybody else," said Hiro.

Akira knelt down to unlock the chain, which linked her bike to the rack. "Yeah," she murmured. "Exactly."

The girl pulled off her bag and dropped it in the bike's basket, and slowly walked it out of the rack. With Hiro at her side she started away from the tennis courts, across the street and through a wide alley. "I had a hard enough time believing myself what was happening. Even if they believed me... well, you know what I mean." She half-smiled at Hiroshi, who fell back as she weaved her bike around a stack of old wooden pallets. "I had no idea what to say about you, or us for that matter."

Inside, Hiro jumped a bit at her use of 'us'. "What did you tell them?" he asked, remembering what the girls had said earlier.

She laughed lightly, guiding her bike towards the next street over. "I told them, 'look for the cute, quiet one.'"

* * *

"I'm home!"

Akira's pronouncement did not go unheard. An older woman's voice cheerily replied, "Welcome back!" from beyond an open doorway down the hall. Slipping out of her shoes, she led Hiro further into the cozy apartment and through to the kitchen.

Behind a marble island stood Mrs. Hayami, a petite woman deftly paring a potato with a knife. She welcomed her daughter with anod, then took notice of Hiroshi. Setting the knife down, she wiped her hands on a nearby napkin and straightened out her plain, earth-toned housedress.

"You must be Hiroshi, right?" she asked with a welcoming smile. "It's nice to meet you."

Hiro squelched his nervousness and bowed his head in greeting. "Nice to meet you too, ma'am."

"Misato is fine, thank you," Mrs. Hayami replied with an answering nod. "Dinner should be ready in about half an hour. Oh, Akira, your brother's sleeping over at one of his friends' tonight, and I don't think he fed Hana before he left. Could you make sure she's okay?"

"Sure. C'mon Hiro, let me show you Hana."

The boy silently agreed, falling back in line behind Akira as she led him out of the kitchen. He briefly entertained thoughts of Akira grabbing him by the hand and guiding him, her being the more aggressive one. The pair quickly made their way down a short hall, around a corner, and through the doorway to her brother's room.

Fumikazu's bedroom didn't strike Hiro as too different from his own, plus a few baseball posters and a more expensive-looking computer. He milled around the room for a moment as Akira dug through her brother's open closet, and Hiro lightly ran a thumb over a stack of DVDs. He took note of a slight crack in the case for The World, suggesting overuse.

"Here we go," said Akira as she pulled out a small tupperware box. Picking out a small treat, she sat down on the bed and turned towards the drawer at its foot. Gesturing to a sizable glass case, she added, "We've had Hana for a while. She actually used to sleep with me when we first got her."

She poked her hand in the case, and a large furry mound in the corner unfurled itself and lazily waddled towards her. The tan-colored rodent sniffed questioningly at her fingers before gingerly accepting the snack. Seemingly content, Hana affectionately brushed against Akira's fingers for a moment before wandering out of reach. "Kazu was home more often, though, so we let him take care of her."

Hiro smiled and bent down next to the case, lightly tapping the case and waving to the guinea pig. "She's cute."

Akira gave a soft laugh. "Yeah. I had to watch her while Kazu was in the hospital, and I think he kinda spoils her. Even now she tends to paw at the glass when he walks by." Her smile fell a hair. "Kinda like she still thinks he's going to disappear."

Hiroshi nodded, and sighed quietly through his nose. He watched as Hana tore into the snack, and Akira joined him. After a minute or so of silence, Akira suddenly said, "I was kinda thinking about it on the way home. It's been over a year, and we're all still tied up in this. All still... scarred by this."

"Yeah. It's easy to sound tough and say stuff like 'it'll be okay,' but you don't really know." Hiro swallowed. "It's... it's hard."

The girl glanced up at him, and she'd never seemed so small to Hiro. "I couldn't tell my parents what really happened to Kazu. I couldn't tell my friends what I was really doing. And I couldn't tell you about what had happened, even after you told me."

"Hard to keep standing," Hiro muttered. "Hard to hide it all."

The two said nothing else, Hiro's eyes on her, Akira's dropping to the floor. Scratches came from the cage as Hana chewed at her treat, punctuating the silence.

The boy was lost. He knew he should say something, anything. He'd seen this scene before in offline games, in movies, in books; moment of silence, good guy says something uplifting or inspiring, his friends agree one by one, they get the strength to carry on. End scene, cut to next part of the story. It was all so simple, so easy to keep standing.

A faint crack came from the cage, Hana splitting the treat in half with her teeth. Both players turned and watched, studying the carefree rodent.

The hero reached, and found nothing else to say.

"You're still like that sometimes, huh? Clamming up when you should say something?" she asked, just enough of a bounce to her tune to suggest playfulness.

Hiro broke eye contact and shook his head. He slowly sat down next to Akira on the bed, staring straight ahead and suddenly self-conscious. "Well, I listen better than I talk. And you always had more to say anyway."

"Hmm. That's true." Out of nowhere, her eyebrow arched up. Mocking offense, she asked, "Hey, are you saying I talk too much?"

He didn't catch the tone and shot his companion a strange look, then quickly raised a hand in defense. "What? N-no, no, that's not it, I just..."

A sly look from the girl cut him off, letting him in on the joke. "I'm kidding, Hiro, relax." She teasingly rapped a fist against his arm. "Mostly kidding. You do need to learn a thing or two about how to make a lady feel better."

Hiroshi lightened up, still caught off his guard. He smiled back, relieved that at least one of them had managed to pick the other up. "Well... least I didn't keep the lady waiting this time."

Akira laughed, showing teeth and turning away from Hiro. "No, no you didn't."

Quiet moment again. Hiro knew the opportunity was right there in front of him. It couldn't have been more obvious, and yet his heart pounded at the thought of even trying. Not a speech, but a gesture.

Akira started when she felt his arm go around her back and gently clasp her opposite shoulder. The boy's grip was anything but sure, his hand tentative. She didn't meet his face, but guessed that it was writ with anticipation and fear. Though her smile faded, she let out a ghost of a contented sigh, and without words she found her arm sliding behind him in return.

Emboldened, Hiro tightened his grip, sending back a bit of the strength she gave him. As she tilted her head to lean on his shoulder, he swore he heard her whisper, "That's better."

* * *

"It looks delicious, thank you," Hiro said politely as the steaming beef roast was placed before him.

Misato smiled at him, then reached for her husband's plate. Kaneko Hayami gladly offered it to her, and he seemed more interested in the gravy-coated meal than his daughter's new friend-that-happened-to-be-a-boy. The introduction was somewhat awkward; Akira deliberately danced around "the B word," and Hiro hadn't yet decided if that was cause for relief or annoyance.

From the hallway, Hiro could faintly hear the TV in one of the bedrooms. Akira explained that her youngest brother, Kouta, had come down with a fever and would be eating later. Just as well, since Hiro was having enough trouble striking up conversation.

Sensing his discomfort, Misato sliced off a portion for her own plate and sat down. "So, Akira says you're attending Asahi Senior High now?"

Hiroshi, about to pick up his knife and fork, stopped to clear his throat. "Ah, yes. This was my first year there."

Kaneko nodded to him, starting to saw through his own helping of roast. "Akira's just finishing up there."

"Right, entrance exams are coming up, aren't they?" Hiro asked.

Akira made a noise through her full mouth, quickly chewing a chunk of roast. "Two days. I've been studying hard when I can, I really like the campus."

Misato gently drove her fork into a pile of mashed potatoes. "Didn't a couple of their alumni compete in Wimbledon last year?"

"Just one, but yeah, they have a pretty famous tennis program," Akira nodded. Giving a discreet but meaningful look to Hiro, she added, "And the college isn't too far away."

The boy hid a grin, the comment clearly meant for him. "That's good. Two days, huh?"

"As long as you're not buried in that game again," said Misato with a good-natured chuckle.

"I know, mom, it's fine," Akira answered halfheartedly.

Smacking his lips from a sip of water, Kaneko added to his wife's remarks. "You do have to be careful, you know. You never know who you're really dealing with online. And didn't that game have something to do with that thing last year?"

"Right, that police operation downtown." Misato turned to Hiroshi. "I know you two weren't involved, but you still had us worried when it came up on the news."

A sudden image of a man with a machine gun stopped Hiroshi short amidst a pull from his own glass, and he coughed as water splashed down the wrong pipe. "Excuse me," he said between coughs, carefully setting his glass down. "Sorry, I just..."

Misato started to reach across the table. "Are you okay?"

Akira gave her partner a worried look, but he waved off the concern. "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine," he said, glancing back at Akira. _I keep forgetting we didn't tell them about... that._

"Good," said Kaneko. "Anyway, I don't mean to sound old-fashioned, I know how popular The World is. You just have to strike a balance."

Hiroshi smiled, clearing his throat to remove the last bits of water. "You're right, Mr. Hayami. It is all about balance, isn't it?"

The older man nodded to him. "True enough. And you don't need to be so formal, Kaneko is fine. I suppose there's some good in The World if the two of you met through it."

_If only you knew the half of it,_ Hiro thought, and a quick look at Akira suggested she was thinking the same thing.

"It has its moments," Akira said.

"Actually, do you mind if I use your bathroom for a moment?" Hiro asked.

"Not at all." Kaneko motioned towards the entrance to the kitchen. "Around the corner to your left, down past the bedrooms."

"Thank you." Hiroshi pushed away from the table and made his exit, slipping around the kitchen archway and into the hall. He could hear Kouta flipping channels as he passed the room, the TV jumping haphazardly from children's programming to a baseball game to the evening news.

A brief snippet of news caught his attention, and experience, alongside movies, had taught him to listen in. "...unclear how the fight started, but eyewitnesses saw a single man fleeing the scene shortly afterward. Although a few patrons were injured, no serious injuries have been reported."

Hiro poked his head back around the bedroom door, taking a quick peek at the TV. _Where was this?_

He caught a brief shot of a broken bar window, with police apparently questioning some of the people milling about. "A security camera at a neighboring convenience store caught an image of the man crossing the parking lot. He is described as white, in his late 30's..." the TV winked as it changed channels again, the building replaced with a soda advertisement.

Hiroshi shook his head and turned towards the bathroom again. After a moment's thought he silently said _No, that can't be him... can it?_

-

From: C.  
To: I.  
Subj: Blades

The blades have shown an interest in poetry. My exclusion from the recital is documented. I'll ensure that they see act two.

- Seaen


	11. Surface Tension

**DotHack: Rejoinder**

A DotHack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: To recap, since it's been TWO YEARS since I updated this thing (before the last chapter,) Dean's asking various CC Corp. personnel about Kazushi Watarai/Albireo's disappearance as it relates to the resurgence of anomalous activity in The World. In tonight's episode, interrogation and fistfights ahoy! Interesting side note, a scene very much like this was intended for Penance. But I ramble and spoil. Observe!_

* * *

**Surface Tension**

* * *

"...who is described as white, in his late 30's, and bald. We'll have more on this story as it develops."

One hand on a tall draft beer, Dean scoffed and turned his eyes away from the hanging TV set. "Man. Glad that ain't me."

The crowd of barflies buzzed noisily around him, some brushing against his back as they squeezed by. He surmised that the small, but popular karaoke bar - Nina had called it Blackout 16 - saw a diverse lot of patrons; the cute bartender didn't so much as blink at the lone American humbly ordering a drink in slow, awkward Japanese. Dean thanked the smiling girl and wandered back over to his table, giving a wide berth to a drunk fellow mangling "Rocketman."

"Toki said you had some questions for me, detective?" asked the woman at Dean's table, perhaps a few years his junior. Casually dressed in khakis and an old gray college alumni t-shirt, Nina Chinari looked oddly at home in the club, if a far cry from the well-dressed woman in her dossier.

Dean quickly appraised her and made a few mental notes: her reddish-brown bangs were neatly trimmed, her ponytail ran down to her shoulders; a tiny scar marred her index finger, possibly from a papercut; her posture was poised and guarded, confident but somehow wary; the shirt and slacks were loose, effectively hiding what he suspected was a more athletic build.

"I do. Do you mind if I take notes?" he asked politely.

She regarded the detective with equal parts curiosity and caution, her brown eyes paying close attention to his hands. When he made no sudden, presumptuous moves, she gave a short shake of her head in response. "No, I don't mind. Go ahead."

"Thank you," said Dean, drawing a pen and a pad of paper out from his jacket. He pulled his appraisal back to her face and started to gauge her reactions. _Tough crowd. At least the bartender smiled._ "About Watarai. Do you know what he was working on just before he quit?"

Nina nodded, taking a pull from her own bottle. "A little, yes. He worked on the Japanese language version of The World under Mr. Tokuoka. He also was involved heavily in the clean-up operation following the resurgence."

_Is that what they're calling it now?_

"Well before his..." she hesitated, deliberately dancing around the word. "Before he left, actually before the resurgence, he was working on something called Lycoris. I don't know much about it myself."

"What can you tell me about him?" Dean asked, writing the word 'Lycoris' down on his notepad.

"Ask anybody about Watarai and they'll probably tell you one or two, or possibly all three, of the following things." She paused to sip at her beer. "One, he was compassionate; he cared about the game, its players, and his coworkers, and that's putting it lightly. Two, he was meticulous and methodical, very detail-oriented and good at problem solving."

Her use of past tense sounded odd to Dean's ears, though he didn't know why. He took a sip from his drink and asked, "And three?"

Nina glanced at him, studying him in return. "Three, under no circumstances would he give up on something he truly believed in."

"Your colleague said about as much," Dean replied. "Did Watarai have any enemies, any people he didn't get along with?"

She made a so-so gesture with her hand. "A couple. Toki and Kazu didn't see eye-to-eye, but only professionally. They were civil about their disagreements, from what I know."

Dean made a mental note of the shorthand for their names. _She's familiar with both men, and Tokino didn't mention this. Curious._ "What sort of disagreements?"

"I don't know the details, but some of them involve the World. Of course, what doesn't in this comapny?" A touch of acid dripped around the word 'company,' which did not go unnoticed by the detective. She lifted the bottle to her lips, taking another sip of her drink. "Kazu mentioned the Lycoris incident only in passing, something about a self-contained subroutine. Apparently it was acting independent of the system at large. Only a handful of people know the full story, especially once we had to deal with Pluto Again."

The detective drew a thick circle around the word 'Lycoris,' then a line to 'Tokino' and added a question mark over the man's name. "So what was the argument?"

"Investigating The World in general was putting a lot of strain on our admins and IT security. Kazu believed our administrators could handle it. Toki didn't, and once people started lapsing into comas again, including our own men, the facts were on his side."

A sharp peal of boisterous laughter cut through their conversation as a pack of youngsters pushed through the door, sporting leather and doing their best to look tough. One of them sidled up to the bar, rudely brushing past a few standing patrons.

Dean shook his head and turned back to Nina. "Did nobody know what they were up against with this thing?"

Nina took a long sip from her beer, sighing as she set the bottle down. "Turnover was high for a few years, such that most of us knew very little about the base programming. That is changing, but not fast enough. There are dozens if not hundreds of scripts that didn't fire. We're still finding fragments of data, both from our own programming and from Harald."

Dean stopped in the middle of taking notes, and quickly scratched out the word 'Delphi' on the notepad. He drew a question mark next to it and spun the pad towards Nina, tapping it with his pen.

She nodded. "Among other things. I don't doubt that our people did their best, but Toki's points were hard to deny. Watarai eventually was able to deal with Lycoris somehow, but it still showed how little we knew about what we were dealing with. The resurgence, as I said, forced our attention elsewhere."

"And then you have Asara coming in," Dean added.

"Precisely. When it turned out that our own executives couldn't be trusted, it's a miracle the company didn't just burn to the ground. Now that we have anomalous activity again, I'm not surprised they're bringing out the fire sale plans. It doesn't help that Lee, our vice-president, is half-Chinese, so there's some friction between him and the board."

"Why would that matter?" asked Dean, playing dumb. He knew there wasn't much love lost between China and Japan.

"It doesn't for the younger employees." Nina shrugged. "Most of the board is older, more conservative. Some have a family history dating back a century or so, others are just old-fashioned bigots. It's tangential to the in-game problems, but it is a stressor."

The detective quickly wrote 'Lee' down, drawing a back-and-forth arrow over to the word 'board'. He added the word 'hostile' over the arrow and said, "So Tokino was using Watarai's work to bolster his position. Did he ever advocate selling the game?"

"Not exactly. He never broached the prospect of selling the game, only that our security couldn't stop this thing. One of the board members first brought up the idea to sell." She motioned to the detective with her bottle. "This doesn't explain why Watarai left recently, of course, but it is why many in the company would want the game gone in the first place."

_This sounds like the same thing Junichiro told me, only about Nina instead._ "It can't be that easy. You're talking about your key property, just thrown out the window. Where would it go?"

"Anywhere, as long as it's not on CC's books when it blows up."

Dean took a large chug from his beer, smacking his lips and writing 'bomb metaphor' on the notepad off in the corner. "All right, let's talk about what's going on now. I understand you recently presented some research to the board, can you tell me a little about that?"

"You spoke to Lios about this?" Chinari asked. When he nodded, she continued. "You've probably heard the bullet points. I made a routine analysis of our intrusion countermeasures. We still periodically come across corrupted data, though only rarely does it manifest as an unkillable creature or something. I measured our success ratio versus the time it took to locate and deal with the thread, then recalculated to involve a sample problem on a larger scale. We even ran a few mock infections in hard isolation servers."

"Test bugs?"

Nina emptied her bottle in one last pull. "Correct. It's rather technical. Suffice it to say we manage well against mobile specimens, but our lack of knowledge about The World hampers our ability to respond to other things. Data purges no longer work as well against infected zones, for instance. And with these latest events, I'm afraid to say Tokino may be right."

"You agree with him?"

Dean studied her face, looking for any sign of smugness or deceit. She gave none, instead staring through her empty bottle with a blank expression. "Before this began again, I can't say that I did. In spite of having to rely on hackers from outside the company, I thought our staff knew what they were doing."

The detective had no answer. He instead jumped to his next question. "Could these anomalies be man-made? Modifications of your test bugs, maybe?"

"Maybe, but it'd be nearly impossible to infect the network in this fashion by remote. Simple infections are possible, but easy to track and stop. A true systemic attack requires server-side access at some point." She shook her head. "If it's an insider, they're very good at covering their tracks."

Dean let his eyes droop shut for a moment. _It seems like my answers are with Watarai one way or another. Either they got rid of him because he could counteract this, or his work was related somehow._

"Tokino said he asked you what you thought it would take to drive away a driven man." Nina palmed her chin, looking up at the detective with curious eyes. "What if there is no answer?"

He blinked. "I don't follow."

"I know Lios believes a human is behind this, and I suspect you do too." She lightly rolled her bottle around on its edge, her other hand firmly on its neck. "You may want to consider that Albireo wasn't chased off, just in case it's true."

"So what, he just gave up? You said yourself that he's beyond dedicated."

Nina shook her head, candidly saying, "Just guesses, detective, nothing more. People are very often more complicated than we know."

Something about the way she said 'detective' rang familiar in his mind; a soft, playful voice attached to a more pleasing face. He cleared his thoughts with a shrug. "We'll see."

Smirking, Nina sat up straight and pushed her bottle away. "Are there any other questions?"

"Nah, that should just about do it, unless you know where I can find Watarai."

"Figures. He might have told someone on his way out, but it's doubtful. I'm afraid you're on your own there."

"Well, thanks for the help just the same." Pocketing his notebook and pen, Dean quickly took another sip from his beer. Motioning to her empty bottle, he asked, "Want one for the road?"

She gave a whisper-soft chuckle, and Dean initially mistook it for a sigh. "Been a while since someone bought me a drink. All right, Mr. Stollis, one more."

Dean stood up and started towards the bar, flitting through mental notes . _So it all adds up to Watarai. Tokino was holding out on me, too. And I still wouldn't mind having words with Mr. Lee. Damn, too many people, not enough access._

"Too big a coincidence," the detective muttered under his breath, squeezing between patrons. _Maybe I can get one more answer out of her._

Without warning a shoulder shoved hard into Dean's arm, causing him to stagger aside and bounce awkwardly off a seated young woman. He grunted in surprise upon impact, having just enough sense to apologize to the woman he collided with. Righting himself, he glared at the man who had run into him. A bit lightheaded from the beer, he had to think for a moment before babbling out "Hey, watch it man!" in Japanese.

A few inches shorter than the detective, the twenty something in the leather jacket scowled at him and snapped back in his native language. He pointed accusingly at Dean, jabbing the older man with his finger.

Dean glared back, his blood pressure quickly rising. "I understood 'stupid' and 'American,' and that's enough. Just watch where you're going." _I don't have time for this,_ he thought as he batted the man's finger away and turned to leave.

"Hey, America, where you going?!" his opponent taunted, pushing at his other arm. "Not done with you yet!"

The detective stopped short, and faced the man again with fast-growing hostility. A few of the closer clients backed away, giving the two some room. "Oh, you do speak English. Good. Then watch where you're going, _asshole_. And keep your hand off me."

"You don't belong here, America." A few of his friends gathered close, jeering at the foreigner in their midst. Finally, the detective caught the scent of alcohol from the man's breath. His bleary eyes and unfocused stare told the rest of the story. He spat something else out in Japanese, and to the detective it didn't sound the least bit complimentary.

_I really don't have time for this,_ he thought again, though that thought was fast giving way to the urge to just throw a punch. He gave a hard shove and put some space between him and the punk. "Last time I'm gonna tell you. Let me go."

Two of the thug's larger friends stood at his sides, glaring coldly at the detective. "Or what?!" belted the leader. He shoved back, nearly pushing Dean off his feet. "I fuck your mother, America! What you got?!"

Dean's eyes blazed, brown turning to steel as he clenched his fists and righted his stance. "Oh, that is IT!" he cried and lunged for the leader, connecting with a firm sucker punch to the mouth.

The thug reeled back in surprise, blood spilling from a cut on his lip. His two friends advanced on Dean, grabbing his arms and struggling to restrain him. One threw a punch into the detective's abdomen, drawing a loud grunt and forcing him to double over coughing; the other lurched upward and dropped his elbow hard on the American's back, sending him to the floor.

Eyes squeezed shut, Dean could do little but shield his face as one of the thugs kicked him hard in the stomach. Struggling to breathe, he heard what he assumed was the Japanese equivalent of 'fuck you', and feebly spit out the same phrase in English. Through the gap in his arms he saw another man wind a leg back to kick again, and instinctively lashed one of his feet towards the man's other leg.

A yelp and a tumble of leather and jeans signaled that his gambit worked; the attacker was caught off guard and fell over, bouncing painfully off a bar stool. Briefly ignoring his own pain, Dean lunged for the fallen thug and grabbed onto a pant leg, dragging himself into striking distance.

The third man awkwardly leaped onto Dean, wrapping an arm around his neck and grabbing his head with his free hand. An unfortunate finger wandered too close to Dean's mouth, and the detective cringed as his teeth bit into and broke skin. A shocked cry caused the fellow to retract his hand, and his hold on the detective's neck loosened as well. Dean, freed from the man's grip, took firm hold of the waistband of thug number two's jeans and dropped any pretense of fighting like a gentleman.

Thug two let out what could only be described as a piercing shriek as a fist rocketed into parts unmentionable. The shriek was cut short as the detective threw a punch to the man's stomach, bypassing his weak attempt at a block.

Arms restrained Dean, at least two pairs. He made one last grasp at his opponent, then kicked out as he was dragged away. "Fuck you! You're fucking dead! You and your asshole friends! Come on!"

He heard shouts from the leader, and Dean was released. Someone - Dean couldn't tell who through his blurry eyes - helped thug two to his feet, and he heard several sets of footsteps making a hasty retreat. It became obvious why as he heard a distant wail of police sirens.

Groaning and gasping for air, Dean struggled to stand and failed. "Those... motherfuckers..." he wheezed as he lay on the floor, keeping a sure grasp on what he had pulled from thug two.

* * *

Red and blue lights swept over the confused crowd gathered around the bar entrance, drawn by the parked police cruiser out front. From down the sidewalk Dean watched as uniformed cops canvassed the onlookers and spoke into dispatch radios. The detective folded his arms over his chest and winced as an arm made contact with a bruise hidden by his shirt.

An older, blank-faced officer in a trenchcoat and blazer stepped away from the crowd and towards Dean, and the detective avoided making eye contact. Shame colored his face red; he'd lost his cool, he was provoked, he shoved first. He heard the lieutenant's footsteps, and steeled his stomach.

"All right, I've heard everybody else's side," said Masamoto, tilting his head to catch the detective's gaze. "Let's hear yours."

"There's not much to tell," Dean said with a sigh. "We bumped into each other, I told him to watch it, and then he started insulting me. Told me to 'go home, American,' started getting personal."

"Apparently," said Masamoto with a raised eyebrow.

"I... I shoved him first, he shoved me back, harder." Dean was now clearly flustered, the words stammered as they came up. His mind was doing backflips trying to justify his actions, even as he forced himself to come clean. "I swung first, hit him. I just... snapped."

Aniki stared intently at Dean, and the younger man seemed to wilt. "Dean. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt because I know you, but the only reason you're not sitting in back of there," he motioned with his head towards the cop car, "is because those three ran off. Bartender didn't know them, apparently they weren't regulars. Just punks out looking for a fight."

Dean swallowed around a stinging lump in his throat. "Maybe."

"We questioned Chinari a bit but had to send her home. She didn't see much after the crowd gathered, and she said you were done questioning her anyway."

Finally meeting the lieutenant's eyes, Dean said, "I had one more question, actually. So much for that, I guess."

Masamoto slid both hands into his coat, glancing quickly at the bar. The crowd was slowly dispersing, and one of the officers looked towards Masamoto. The lieutenant barked a quick order at him, then turned back to Dean. "Is this about the, uh..."

"Yeah," Dean muttered. "Not getting very far. All ties in to this programmer that quit for some... some apparently bullshit reason. He went dark. Bad things are happening in The World again, and someone's using it as an excuse to sell The World. Apparently this programmer's work was used as evidence, and he had the know-how to stop this thing in its tracks, or... or something. Still doesn't add up."

"Mm. You know I can't help you on this until you find out there's an actual crime being committed, right?" The officer waited to Dean to nod, which he did. "And I certainly can't help you with what happened tonight."

"I know," Dean said in a raspy voice. He sniffed and cleared his throat before continuing. "I know, Masa. I... it was an accident. Well, okay, not an accident, but I just... I just lost control."

"I'm too old to pretend people can cut off their emotions just like that, but you still have to be careful." Masamoto took a short breath, speaking in a lower voice. "Foreigners aren't exactly welcome these days, and I'm afraid you're no exception. After everything Asara did, on top of the CIA and even yourself..."

"I get it Masa, I get it."

Masamoto put a hand on Dean's shoulder, showing concern on his face. "Dean, I say this as a friend. Go home, get some rest, start fresh tomorrow, and be. Careful. We'll talk later."

The lieutenant turned and left without another word, returning to the squad car. The words 'go home' knifed into Dean, echoing what the punk had said to him earlier.

Slowly the shame subsided, and Dean reached for his pocket as the car pulled away. He dug out a leather wallet, not unlike his own, and flipped it open. The ID definitely wasn't his. A heavyset fellow named Manake Pirinako smiled back at him, looking an awful lot like the thug he had socked in the privates mere minutes ago.

_You may want to consider that Albireo wasn't chased off._

Dean thumbed the ID, deciphering the Japanese text to get the man's address. Suspicion replaced embarassment. "We'll see."


	12. Putting the Band Back Together

**DotHack: Rejoinder**

A DotHack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: Night's not quite over just yet. Incidentally, when you're consciously trying to avoid common action/mystery tropes, it is crazy easy to stumble into other tropes. Seriously, there's just no getting around them. So sometimes the best policy is just to fling yourself straight at them and hope for the best, as I will attempt to do here. Spot the S.T.A.L.K.E.R. pseudo-reference and get radiated cookies!_

_Song is Louis Prima - Just a Gigolo._

* * *

**Putting the Band Back Together**

* * *

"So nothing happened?"

The question went unnoticed around the bustle of Fort Ouph, the aerial citadel and root town of Sigma server. The presence of two legendary players, however, did not. An occasional pointed finger or mutter of "Hey, aren't they those guys...?" from the odd passerby; the taller, more muscular of the two players was more accustomed to this, and he knew that his partner wasn't.

Not that this was on Kite's mind at the moment. He rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his weight awkwardly. "Well, her parents were watching when I left, and..."

Orca cringed in sympathy. "Ooh, I see. No luck there, huh?"

The Twin Blade shook his head. "It was fun, though. We had a good time, her parents seemed friendly. She won't be on, though. She's studying for entrance exams tonight."

"Ahh. Well, no word from Dean yet, but I just heard back from Balmung. He found something on Hokuto."

The name didn't immediately register, a spot of fatigue hamstringing Kite's memory. "Who?"

"Remember, the girl that supposedly knows Albireo?"

"Ah, right. What did he find."

Orca folded his arms over his chest. "An old email address. He shot an email her way, but it bounced right back; the address no longer exists. He's looking for similar names on other email servers now, but that could take days."

"It's a start, I guess."

"It doesn't leave us with much to do in the meantime," the Blademaster lamented.

Kite was about to reply when a gruff voice called from across the gate area. "Hey, why the long faces?"

Addressing them was a tall, eyepatched warrior, garbed in a garish yellow-and-orange gi. Metal plates ran the length of his left arm, his right exposed and partially tattooed in green. His impractically long katana hung loose at his side, practically scraping the stone floor as he approached; a close observer might have seen it clip through the floor at one point. "I thought I saw you guys online," he said in a raspy, gravelly voice that failed to mask his good-natured demeanor. "What's going on?"

Kite grinned and waved the Heavy Blade over. "Hey, Sanjuro! Long time no see!"

Orca bowed his head to the newcomer, smiling himself. "Didn't know you were back from vacation."

"Just got into town yesterday," said Sanjuro. He crooked his neck to one side, a hint of concern in his one good eye. "What's going on? I read on the boards that they're spotting more bugs."

The painted Blademaster shrugged, a digital breeze mussing his short hair. One eye on the players around them, he said, "Let's group up, just in case somebody's listening."

Kite nodded, issuing party invites to both men. When both accepted, the three switched to a party-only voice channel. "They found an infected field, and since then more data bugs have been showing up," said Orca. "It seems different than before, and may be related to what a former CC corporation employee was working on. We don't know much about it either."

"Oh, lovely," groaned the Heavy Blade. "I picked a hell of a time to come back, didn't I?"

A message flag suddenly shot onto Kite's heads-up display. He absentmindedly opened it, but started to pay more attention when he saw it was from Poet.

_Am I glad to see you! We have an emergency: Data bug sighted at Sigma - Shadowy Marked Stalker! Two players have already engaged it, please help!_

"Another one," Kite whispered, a chill snaking up his spine. He spoke louder to his comrades. "I just got a message from Poet. They found a bug on this server, it's attacking people!"

Orca immediately reached back to tighten a fist around the hilt of his sword. "Speak of the devil."

"Hell of a time," Sanjuro repeated, firmly setting his jaw. "Guess I needed to shake off the rust anyway. Let's go."

"She needs help," said Kite urgently. "We better move quickly."

* * *

An arc of electricity streaked across the snowy field, the crack echoing into the murky sky. The bolt hit its mark, boring brightly into a shield of text strings and broken images. The creature behind it, a massive, dog-like skeletal beast, recoiled onto its hind legs and arched its head skyward. Its massive maw made no sound, save for the disgusting crackle of bones rolling around in their sockets.

"We can't keep this up forever!" shouted a blue-haired spearman, picking himself out of a small hillside and dusting himself off. The snowdrifts formed a small valley around them, penning the creature in but limiting their angle of attack. "That friend of yours better get here soon!"

Ducking under a powerful claw swipe, Poet raked one of her blades along the monster's forearm. Errant code flashed as the weapon made contact, the hole in its arm rapidly mending itself shut. "He's on his way! We just need to hold on!"

A blonde Wavemaster froze for a moment as her player thumbed through a menu. She threw an arm skyward, tossing up a healing item, and sparkling lights began to dance around her body. A flash of blue numbers indicated her magic had been replenished, and she twirled her ornate golden staff towards the enemy. "We're not finished yet!" she bellowed, her mint-and-olive green dress fluttering around her as she began casting. "Vulcan!"

The silhouette of a fiery, angry red face appeared suddenly in the sky, staring hard at the corrupted monster. It glared, and the beast erupted in flames, the ground beneath it blasting upwards in an explosion of magma and fire. Debris pelted the battlefield, melting snow on contact but doing no damage to the magician's party. Before the magical volcano could disappear, the beast began to reform, its empty eye sockets turning towards its attacker.

"I got it, BT! Look out!" shouted the Long Arm as he charged in, his bright getup a streak of crimson across the white ground. He joined Poet in attacking the creature, taking its right arm as she hacked away at the left. He rolled clear of a sudden stomp, and thrust his spear up into the creature's ribcage. Bone shattered as he pulled up and away, but it knit itself together as the weapon broke free.

"Crim, be careful!" the mage ordered as she sent another lightning blast at the creature.

"We're all right if we can just keep pressure on it," Poet began, cut off as she tried to dodge one of its claws. The thing forcefully swatted her aside, knocking her into a rolling tumble away from the fight.

"Damn it!" hissed Crim, jumping backward and flipping his spear into an overhead grip. Drawing a sharp breath, he launched himself back at the monster, darting left and right as he got under its line of sight. It hauled a foot up to stomp at him again, but he was faster. With a mighty growl he launched his spear into its jaw, carving a jagged hole up through its teeth. With a flick of the wrist he spun the spear out to one side, ripping a huge chunk out and away.

The chunk fell to the ground and vanished, replaced soon after by fresh bone. However, a half-second later a bright green silhouette danced over the monster's body, which seemed to shudder and shake. BT knew what was happening. "It's weakened! We have to bring it down now!"

Crim scurried out from under its bony bulk, making a dash for one side of the valley. "Great! How do we do that?!"

Suddenly the beast seized up and locked in place. Static jumped over the players' visors, and the whole field blinked white for a moment. From a distance, lines of colored code lashed out at the beast, held in place by unseen forces. The code wrapped around the hapless skeleton, constricting it and melding with the blinking text shielding it. The lines danced faster and faster, rewriting the shield until, with a deafening boom, the aberrant letters vanished from sight.

Left in the wake of the data drain was simply the skeletal fiend, an ordinary monster just waiting to be destroyed. As the players' vision recovered, three more people joined the fight, all sporting some varity of bladed weapon.

"Take down the right leg!" shouted the player tagged as Kite; it took Crim a moment to realize the Twin Blade was talking to him. "We'll grab the left!"

The plan was clear as day. The creature, still paralyzed, couldn't stop either party from closing in around its two forelegs. Kite and Orca hastily chopped through one, while Crim and Poet danced through streams of friendly fire to knock out the other. With a silent roar it collapsed, bringing its head down into striking range. A loud, clean slash and it was over. Sanjuro sheathed his sword before the creature's severed skull came crashing to the ground, marked by the system as an instant-death critical. The bones came loose and collapsed in an unsightly pile, and it was over.

Pants and gasps followed, players struggling to calm themselves. From behind her mask, Poet glanced over at Kite and appeared to smile. "Your timing was impeccable."

Kite let out a controlled breath, looking apologetically at Poet. "Sorry we didn't get here sooner."

The Wavemaster flicked her hair back, tossing a few strands of hair out of her face. She took a closer look at the young fighter, and her eyes widened in recognition. "It's you, Kite! You're Poet's friend?"

Kite turned to the caster, and it took him a moment to recognize her. "Well, we just met recently. You're BT, right?"

BT gave a soft laugh, ignoring the now-vanishing pile of bones. "Yes. Thank you for the help. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Crim studied the Twin Blade questioningly. "Was that you? That thing was hacked, how did you break it?"

BT cut in. "It's something of a long story. Crim, this is Kite, Orca, and Sanjuro. The three of them are rather famous players as of late. And this is Crim, an... old friend of mine." She motioned to the blue-haired spearman, a faint smile on her lips.

Orca gave a fleeting look at Crim, then went back to BT. "So, you guys just stumbled on this thing out here? Did it appear out of a portal?"

"Nah, it was attacking her," said Crim, indicating Poet with his spear. "She says someone sprung it beforehand, that it was just wandering out here. I was here to get some practice in; BT brought me here. We came across Poet and tried to help out, but then we saw it was hacked."

Poet shivered, a hard thing to spot given her loose ninja-style getup. "I could not have been luckier," she said darkly. "Despite its size, it moved too quickly to disengage and escape on my own."

Sanjuro rejoined the group, addressing Poet. "What were you doing out here, anyway? This field doesn't have a dungeon or even a spring."

"I received a scrambled message," said Poet. "I couldn't read most of it, but the server and keywords were clear. The content seemed like gibberish, however."

_Scrambled message?_ Kite mentally repeated. He looked over at Orca and Sanjuro, sending a private message to his party only. "Do you think it could have been from... Aura?"

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Orca replied. "I'm not saying she's lying, but the timing of this was a little too good."

Poet watched their eyes, and saw their questions. She continued unabated, letting her head hang a bit and avoiding their looks. "I understand if it seems coincidental. I am still unknown to you, some of you especially. You're looking for assurance that I am not... shall we say, part of the problem. I cannot give them."

Orca peered at her, puzzled by her apparent honesty. "So, what then?"

"Consider either case, whether I am a part of this or merely drawn into this, as you all are." She put away her weapons and started walking in a small circle, facing each person in turn. "If I were responsible for this, it would mean I knew enough about all of you to lead you all into the same trap. It would mean I knew Kite could defeat the monster, and deliberately brought him here to do so. For what reason, who can say?"

Her details sounded too specific, and BT felt a rash of goosebumps crawl up her arm. "And if you were not?"

Poet held out her other hand, palm towards the sky. With a simple, matter-of-fact tone, she said, "What changes? Something, or someone, still brought us all here. Someone engineered this so you and your... friend," her pause was deliberate, and it made BT flinch, "would come to my aid. I would then spot Kite online and ask for his help. Whether I am the villain you seek or not, if we accept that this is too big to be coincidence, then we acknowledge that this event was staged. Either I am watching you, or someone else is watching all of us."

She turned back to Kite. "Either way, we are being watched. Or we accept that this is just a chance encounter. Improbable, but chance just the same."

"It's been a while since I believed in coincidences," said Crim. "Not to be rude, but... who are you, exactly?"

Poet stiffened. "Just a player looking for a friend," she said quietly. "A former administrator by the name of Albireo."

"Hokuto."

The word was barked across the small valley, and before anyone could identify the speaker they were surrounded: armored knights bearing full plate armor and various weapons. From the dozen or so men that teleported in came two in particular, a female Long Arm and a winged Blademaster, both easily recognizable from a distance.

"Well, the gang's all here," Sanjuro muttered. "How's it going, Balmung?"

"Maybe you should tell us," said Kamui, the black-haired spearwoman. She made a sharp gesture with her hand, and the Cobalt Knights drew their weapons. "Start with how you all got here so fast, before we even heard of a data bug."

Balmung stepped towards Poet, cutting over Kamui's question. "I sent out several emails, most of them bounced right back. It's you, isn't it? Hokuto?"

The field grew quiet, as if expecting her answer. Her chest heaved with a weighty sigh, and she gave her head a vigorous shake. "Would it really be simpler if I said 'yes'?"

"What do you mean?" Kamui asked her with an intense stare. "Who the hell are you?"

"Would you presume to know all of Albireo's friends?" Poet sighed. "I am not Hokuto. I know of her, he spoke of her often, but I am not her."

A few confused mutters came from the small crowd of players and administrators around her. She faced Kite, speaking loudly and clearly. "I am not your enemy, but it would be naive to take my word at face value. Trust only that I am a friend of Albireo's, and am searching for the truth."

With that, Poet dropped from BT's party and gated out, leaving all present to simply stare in bewilderment.

* * *

Dean made flat whistling noises between his teeth as he typed away, transcribing his notes from a paper document to a digital one. The badly-drawn diagrams and annotated arrows would make little sense to anyone else, but they triggered just the right memories in his brain to form complete thoughts.

_Well, I can't get to Lee just yet. Tokino might be more talkative now. Or maybe I should check out this Pirinako guy. Even in Japan, nameless punks don't go picking fights with foreigners right in the middle of a crowded bar._

A part of him cringed as he remembered that he technically threw the first punch. His computer's media player rolled on in the background, switching songs to add a slow big band background to his dueling thoughts. _They were drunk. Bunch of idiots. You should've just walked away, you have more important things to worry about._

He scoffed, his fingers dancing across keys to type in another sentence. His stomach and back still ached, and would be sore tomorrow, but otherwise he was unharmed. _Like I've ever been one to just walk away._

"I'm just a gigolo," sang Louis Prima from Dean's computer speaker, "and everywhere I go, people know the part I'm playin'."

The darker side of him prodded his thoughts, bringing up uncomfortable memories. _Internal Affairs would beg to differ, Sergeant._

Dean stopped in midsentence, glowering at himself. _Fuck you. That's a low blow and you know it._

"Pay for every dance, selling each romance," the lyrics bounced off his mind, incidental. "Ooooh, what they sayin'?"

_Does that make it untrue?_

Giving a disgusted sigh, Dean turned away from the computer and climbed out of his chair. _What part of 'fuck you' don't you understand? That was then, this is now. End of story._

A loud knocking came from his door, jarring Dean from his thoughts. He arched his back and rolled his neck until he felt his bones pop, and gave a satisfied sigh as he headed for the door. "Wasn't expecting anybody. Neighbors?" he said to himself.

"There will come a day, when youth will pass away. What will they say about me?"

He squinted through the peephole, but saw nobody. Puzzled, he unlocked the door and poked his head into the hallway. Silence in both directions. In the distance he heard a door slam, its weight that of the stairwell entrance. It was then that he noticed the envelope stuck to the door, unmarked.

His mind went off in a few different directions, each more implausible than the last: prank, death threat, secret admirer, letter bomb. He knew he should be more cautious, that there were people in the city that wanted to specifically do him harm.

With barely a further thought, he ripped the envelope open. _Eh, I've had a good run._

To his partial disappointment, noting seemed off about the note inside the envelope; merely an advertisement for some new restaurant nearby. Disappointment turned to bemusement as he upended the envelope, causing a small index card to spill out. He bent down and nonchalantly snatched it off the floor.

"When the end comes I know, there was just a gigolo's..."

The card was blank, save for one line of printed text: _She's cheating on you._

Dean was quick to figure out who the card was referring to. It meant a lot of things to him, but not what was printed on the card. He knew he was being watched, and that whoever wrote it knew just enough to mess with him. In an odd way, he drew comfort from the card; someone was definitely trying to get to him, and he guessed that it meant he was onto something.

The phrase briefly pulled at his darker thoughts, wondering if the card was true. However, he shrugged it off with a nonchalant roll of the eyes. _Is this really all they've got? Y'know, if they'd just put anthrax or something in the stupid thing they could end this quick and cheap._

"Life goes on... without me."

He closed the door and tossed the envelope on the counter, placing the card next to it. A part of him was genuinely disappointed, though he was still trying to distract himself, to keep from thinking about the fight or what the card had said. _What kind of no-ambition corporate thugs am I dealing with? Goddamn.  
_

Prima picked back up from his computer, dragging out a long 'I' to the song's refrain. "Ain't got nobody! Ohh, there's," the drums kicked in, giving the tune an ironically light, bouncy feel to it. "Nobody cares for me, there's nobody cares for me."

Dean had to laugh at the timing. In spite of himself, he snapped his fingers, shuffle-stepping back towards the computer in time with the music. His injuries stung, protesting the movement, but he ignored them. Shoving his dark thoughts to the side for a moment, he joined in the lyrics as he sat back down. "I'm so sad and loooooooonely! Sad and lonely, sad and lonely, won't some sweet mama come take a chance with me?"

He set his notes aside and grabbed his headset, wheeling his mouse towards the game's login icon. "'Cause I ain't so bad."


	13. Deprive

**DotHack: Rejoinder**

A DotHack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: Clarifications, cooperation, and a leetle drama to boot. Sorry about the delay, folks. Had some trouble writing this scene, it just didn't seem to flow right no matter how it went down. Here's hoping this works. Didn't help that my browser was being the biggest bitch on the planet over the weekend (though interestingly, not my actual internet connection). Oh well. Also, it's always fun to find out down the line that characters you weren't sure had a canon offline name did, in fact. And by fun I mean annoying. More on that when it comes up, which won't be long._

* * *

**Deprive**

* * *

"Well, now what?"

Kamui leaned back against a stone railing, facing Balmung. "I don't know what to think. I still don't trust Poet, but she's aware of that. Either this is a very elaborate trap, or she's telling the truth and this is more than just an outbreak."

As Kite gazed out over the ramparts of the root town, his player punched a short message to BlackRose about what had happened. She was offline, but it'd be the first thing she saw as soon as she got in. "So if it's not her, who could it be?" he asked.

"To be honest," said Crim, "I think that may be missing the point. Let's assume that she's right, that we're being watched. If these encounters are staged, then that suggests we're being tested."

"In what way?" asked Sanjuro.

"Probably seeing how we react," said BT. "If something, or someone, is directing this, then they may be looking for how well the system and its players can fight them off."

Looking thoughtful for a moment, Kamui nodded to BT. "You may be onto something. That tree survived a viral purge, but a hard reset of the field's data cleared it. I received a report earlier that it had returned, so the source of the virus is probably elsewhere."

"You're saying it's a decoy," said Orca.

"Exactly." She motioned to Kite. "Balmung told me about the bird creature you encountered earlier. Who or whatever it is, it may have been expecting you and your data drain."

"Where does that leave this one?" Sanjuro straightened his posture, moving clear of the walkway as a small party of players dashed by. "It may have known that other players were nearby, but it couldn't have known Kite was going to log in, and even then it couldn't be sure that Poet would call for help."

"The timing is suspicious," Balmung agreed, brow furrowed. "If it's her, she must have some means of controlling it to keep it from harming her. But if it's not her, then whoever it is knew that not only were other players around, but those other players that had a history with The World. Either possibility is worrying."

Crim saw BT flinch a bit, her lips flattening into a thin line. He got the impression her player had shuddered. "We need to take the initiative on this," he said. "This Poet woman knows more than she's letting on, but it all seems to revolve around this Albireo guy."

"I don't know," said Orca. "He's part of this, but someone may just be using his work to fashion these data bugs."

"Face it, all we have are guesses," BT cut him off. "Whatever this thing is, it's going to make the next move. All we can do for now is try to counter it."

"Not quite," Kamui objected. "There's one other option. There's a surge in I/O activity when a data bug appears or a field is corrupted, and an even bigger one when a bug is destroyed. Throughout the Twilight incident, there was residual data feedback that appeared for up to an hour before and after a monster's appearance. Lios, along with the hacker Helba, used this to track the Wave's movements."

"You think we can track it again?" asked Balmung.

"The knights didn't intercept the one we just fought," Crim pointed out. "I'll bet it's more complicated than that, isn't it?"

Kamui indicated Crim with a pass of the hand. "It's as he says, Balmung. As we saw with the tree, field modification by a virus can take many forms, but most common are corrupted fields and monsters. The form of infection determines how this residual will appear to us. In short, we need to monitor the data spikes. We need several to detect a pattern, and we also need a control."

"A control? What do you mean by that?" Kite asked.

The spearwoman paused for a second, her face twitching almost invisibly as she crooked her head towards Kite. "To ensure we're not tracking the wrong set of data, we... may need to observe a bug destroyed by someone other than us."

"I get it." Balmung strode over to the red-capped Twin Blade. "To make sure the Knights themselves aren't causing the feedback by destroying a monster, they need to record and analyze you using the bracelet."

"Interesting," BT nearly whispered. "With two sets of data, you can isolate this residual string. And with that, you'll have a better idea where the infection will surface."

Kamui's features grew stern for a moment. "Don't get ahead of me, though. I'm uneasy about relying on data from a hacked character, even from one our administrators have relied on in the past."

Balmung let out a quick breath, sounding enough like a scoff to draw the Long Arm's attention. She glared at him, and he stood his ground. "Still the skeptic. You remind me a lot of myself about two years ago."

The words seemed to strike a nerve; she briefly bristled, but closed her eyes and did her best to relax. "Be that as it may, we do still need a control, but I want to make it very clear that-"

"I'll do it," Kite answered before she could finish. "I'm not here to work against you. If I can put this bracelet to use and help people, then that's what I'll do."

Sanjuro joined the young hero and picked up where he left off. "We sure aren't going to do your job for you, if that's what you're worried about. We're all fighting the same thing, we may as well all be on the same page."

"We may not be on your payroll," said Crim, "but I'm not one to stand on the sidelines while others do the heavy lifting."

Orca regarded the male Long Arm with a tiny grin. "Well put. We're already in this, it's on all of us whether we like it or not."

Kamui was silent for a long time, her eyes jumping from one player to the next. She let out a held breath and turned her head, nodding in grudging agreement. "All right. All right, you're all in."

A quiet ping in Kite's ears called his attention to his contact list. A small smile crossed his lips. "And we're not alone, either," he said as he quickly fired off a message to the flashing name in front of him. "Dean's looking for Albireo, too. He just signed on."

Kamui let out a small, amused grunt. "That 'detective' that got involved in this a couple years ago? You trust him?"

BT shifted her weight, a strange, unreadable cast to the Wavemaster's face. "You don't?" she asked quietly.

"I'm no fool, I know he did us all a favor back then." Kamui paused, choosing her words with care. "It's enough to have to rely on hackers to fix our messes, but when it's some... renegade cowboy..."

The Wavemaster smiled faintly, a tiny, rumbling laugh rolling from her throat. Crim watched her, curious. "Who are you all talking about?"

BT glanced at Crim, her smile vanishing. "It's complicated." She turned back to Kamui. "I'll say this much, Kamui. Do not underestimate him."

"Is that so?"

BT fidgeted a bit, squeezed her mage's staff, her fingers drumming on the weapon. "Dean Stollis... is no cowboy. You can trust him."

The leader of the Cobalt Knights threw an odd look at the Wavemaster. Although BT hadn't said it especially loudly, there was a hint of severity behind her tone, and the firm cast to her face added yet more weight to her statement. Kamui was by no means too proud to take a hint. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Anyway, we've got a lot of work to do," said Balmung, pulling the topic back on track. "Kamui, let us all know when you spot another bug. We'll destroy it and help you track wherever this virus is coming from."

"We'll start searching right away." Kamui spun around and started away. "I have to log off soon, but I'll pass this along to the rest of the Knights."

"Good luck!" Kite called after her.

She said nothing in reply as she gated out.

"A real charmer, isn't she?" Crim remarked.

Balmung let his character drop for a second. "You should've seen her when she stopped smoking."

Orca laughed briefly, but his eyes darted off to one side. "Damn, it's getting late. I better get going, see you all later!"

"Yeah, I got an early start tomorrow, I should log off too," said Sanjuro.

Shimmering rings surrounded the two men as they faded from view, their players going offline. Balmung's player yawned, though the Blademaster himself made no movement. "Likewise. I'll see you later, Kite. Let us know if Dean turned up anything." He started to gate out, giving a brief wave to an incoming Wavemaster as he vanished.

"Hi Balmung, bye Balmung," said the silver-haired magician. He smiled to Kite and jogged over, doing a double-take in BT's direction as he neared. "Hey guys. Did I miss something fun?"

"Depends how you define 'fun,' I guess," said Kite. Throwing a smiling emote into his sentence, he added, "You might enjoy it, though."

"I might yet. You know me, man, I live for this stuff." With that, Stolls turned to BT, and his demeanor took a turn for the timid. He idly prodded the ground with his toe, focusing on a crack between the stones. "Heya, BT."

BT kept from meeting his eyes, looking off to her left. "Detective," she answered, a nearly inaudible stutter on the 'd'.

A pall of silence fell over the group as Stolls, BT, and Crim exchanged looks. Sensing the discomfort, Kite awkwardly spoke up. "We just had a meeting with Kamui, I'll send you the log. I have to go soon, but were you able to find out anything about Albireo?"

Stolls briefly turned away from his fellow mage. "A couple things, I'm working on it. I'll have more for you guys tomorrow."

"Okay. See you later, Dean!"

"You too, Hiro. Take it easy!"

The Twin Blade waved as he disappeared, leaving the two Wavemasters and the Long Arm to themselves. The distant bustle of late-night players was lost on the three, and to each mere seconds of silence dragged with the weight of minutes.

Crim was the first to break the ice. "I don't believe we've met," he said evenly.

Stolls nodded, amicably extending his hand to the Long Arm. "Me neither. The handle's Stolls, but damn near everybody seems to know my real name these days. I'm Dean."

"Ah, so you're the guy," Crim grabbed his hand and shook it firmly. "I'm Crim. BT and the others were just talking about you."

Stolls crowbared a smile onto his face. "All lies, I assure you."

The lancer smiled back, releasing his hand. "So you're in this too, huh?"

"Unfortunately," Stolls said, then chuckled. "Long story. An exciting one, though. Got car chases and everything."

"Hmm." Crim cleared his throat, the start of an out from the conversation. "I should probably go, it's been a long day."

"Nah, I just wanted to stop and say hi," said Stolls, suddenly feeling like he'd butted into something. "I should get a move on, I got some notes to go over..."

"Actually, if you have a minute, I wanted to talk to you," said BT, breaking her usual unhurried pace.

Stolls uncomfortably looked back and forth between BT and Crim. "Well, I mean..."

Crim dismissed with his hand. "It's fine. I'll see you tomorrow, BT. Thanks for the help today." The words were sincere, but he still glanced questioningly at Stolls before moving to gate out.

"You too," said BT. "Take care, Crim."

Stolls watched as Crim left, staring at the space the Long Arm had been filling. "Nice guy. Friend of yours?"

"Yes... we played together sometimes, and I helped him and the others rescue Tsukasa." She forced herself to look at Stolls, and had a hard time seeing the adult detective inside the boyish Wavemaster. "He's been away on business for some time, and he left the game for a while. He came back only recently."

_The second I say 'It's not that I'm jealous or anything,' it's game over._ The gnawing unease in his stomach proved that he was, but he wasn't about to say so. "I don't mean to pry or anything, Miku, I was just curious."

She nodded to him in understanding. "I can see why you would be. Don't get the wrong idea, Crim and I are not... well..."

Guilt set in; out of habit, out of the pretense of expecting to be welcomed with open arms, out of not treating a close friend of hers with enough respect. He held up a hand, assuring her she didn't need to finish the sentence. "Don't worry, I get it. Is this one of those things you were talking about back at the restaurant?"

The apparently older woman nodded. "As I said, he was one of the many helping to save Aura and The World before the Twilight incident even began. He... is a good friend, and I haven't seen him in a long time." She gave a halting half-smile. "A little like you, detective."

The words 'good friend' and 'you' in the same ballpark were a solid kick to the stomach, but Dean shrugged it off. Harder to ignore was the use of 'detective,' instead of his name. _You know she didn't mean it that way, Dean. Man up and just tell her about what's going on._ "Look, I said I wasn't gonna pry, so I'll leave it at that. But, Miku... don't feel like you can't talk to me, all right? I'm never too busy to listen."

That low, rumbling laugh again. It struck a chord with him, playing a delightful rhythm in his ears and momentarily abating his doubts. "It's silly."

The male Wavemaster let out a small laugh of his own. "Miku, I'm 36 and I look like I'm twenty in this game. I'm a shitty detective who flew back into town on a whim. We're all playing a game that apparently threatens the whole goddamn world. Face it: this is all silly by default."

BT allowed herself to laugh a little harder, and to smile a bit too. "Please, detective. You look fifteen at most," she said teasingly.

Stolls opened his mouth to reply, but stopped and took a quick self-appraisal. Unable to see his own face, he simply shrugged. "I... sort of just breezed through character creation. Wasn't really expecting to... y'know, stay here."

Her smile changed, still on her face but different in some way; empty. "And what about now?"

He rapped his staff against the ground twice, a substitute for genuine thought. "That... depends on a lot of things, I guess."

"So it does."

The card flashed through his head, along with its false yet unwelcome statement. He gave his head a shake to clear his thoughts. "Listen, the reason I ask is... well, someone left a message for me at the apartment. A little card that said..." he hesitated. "That said you're cheating on me."

The thought struck BT dumb, confusing her in several ways. "Relax," he assured her, "number one, I don't believe it for a minute, and number two, you and I aren't exactly... well, okay, that conversation's for another time. Suffice it to say I'm not worried about what it said, but it does mean someone's watching me closely, and possibly you too. And that does worry me."

Still stunned by the content of the card, BT managed a calm reply. "Do you know who?"

"No, but it's probably tied into what's going on here. You want my opinion, the real statement on the card is 'We're watching you.' That they brought you up means someone's trying to get into my head, mess with me." He rolled his eyes, putting on an air of fake cockiness. "So far, I'm not impressed."

BT nodded unsteadily, drawing a different statement from the card. _We're all in danger, aren't we?_ she thought.

Dean noticed her unease through the game, but said nothing. _The hell can I say? 'Don't worry, I'll stop these guys'? 'I'll protect you'? Some other cliche hero crap? God damnit, I just wanted to... just... fuck. What the hell did I really come here for?_

"Well... anyway, just be careful," Stolls finally said. Offline, Dean listed to one side, and an armrest pushed painfully against a bruise. "Ah! Damn it."

The sorceress started, concern coming through in her voice. "What's wrong?"

He grumbled. "Ah, it's nothing. Got into a spat at a bar tonight."

BT's brow wrinkled. "A fight? What happened?"

"Some jerk had a bone to pick with America in general. Maybe even me specifically, but who the hell knows. I'm okay, just got a little banged up."

She winced. "I'm sorry to hear it. Are you sure you're okay?"

Dean chuckled, making his avatar straighten himself. "Eh, I'll live. I should probably try and sleep it off anyway, I got a few more people to question tomorrow."

"All right then," she sighed. "Good night, detective, and... take care of yourself, all right?"

"Yeah, you too," he replied, starting towards the logoff menu. "But Miku..."

She stiffened. "Yes?"

He looked straight at her, and fought every instinct to avoid her eyes. "Y-you can call me Dean, you know."

The rings fell over his eyes, causing the root town and its battlements to fade away before he could hear her answer.

* * *

Blurry eyes blinked over and over, and she could focus no longer on the paper before her. Akira clumsily stuffed her notebook into the binding of a well used history book, and flipped the weighty tome closed. She stood up and away from her desk, and grimaced as a painful creak shot out from the chair. The noise cut through the silence of the house, easily heard over her ceiling fan and the whirring of her computer.

_That's enough for tonight. Just this and the last math module and I should be ready._ Or so she said in her thoughts. Deep doubts and concerns ran to the core, with only fatigue to distract her as she crumpled onto her bed.

Through one eye she squinted at the clock, and frowned into her pillow. _Midnight already? Damn, that took forever. Wonder what everybody else was up to tonight._

She'd seen Kite and others pop onto her contact list, but refrained from sending any of them a message, fearing she'd too easily lose track of time. She had enough on her mind with the events of the day, with Hiroshi meeting her parents for the first time.

She rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. Realizing she could still see, she groaned and got up to turn the desk lamp off. As she leaned across the desk, she bumped her mouse, and her screen woke up.

The light from the screen was too bright at first, and she squinted as her eyes adjusted. About to turn the monitor off, she stopped short as she saw a flashing mail icon on her desktop. Curiosity won over fatigue, and she popped her client open.

From: Kite

To: BlackRose

Subj: Tonight

Hey, BlackRose! We ran across another data bug, and it seemed to be attacking that Poet character. We're not sure what to make of it, but one of Lios' administrators has come up with a plan to help track the outbreak. I've attached the log for you. I know you're probably busy, so we'll talk later when you have time.

By the way, thanks again for inviting me over today. I had fun, and your mom's a great cook! Hope your parents liked me, they seem like nice people :)

Good luck with your studying!

- Hiro

The email pulled her brain in several diretions, starting with worry over the data bug. Worry gave way to frustration as she realized she wasn't there to help, but she quickly scolded herself. _Don't worry, they can handle themselves. I'll get my chance to fight._

She shut off her monitor but left her computer running, accustomed to the gentle whir of its fan. _Heh. Didn't think I'd be that eager to jump back into it._

Akira blindly stumbled back over to her bed, and her legs gently bumped against the frame. Her thoughts drifted to Hiroshi, to Kite. She didn't dare even voice the thought in her head, but she missed fighting alongside him: he, the deft, scrappy, unlikely hero; and her, the strong, sturdy heroine on the front line.

The picture in her mind changed to something simpler. She saw them walking home from the tennis court, sitting together in Kazu's room, laughing at the dinner table. She smiled into the darkness. _I'm glad my parents like him._

It changed again, her parents watching as she bid him farewell. She saw him walk away without so much as a hug or held hand. From a few buildings down she swore he looked back at her, though it was too far to be sure.

She'd wanted to say more, things she didn't want anybody else to hear, things she herself wasn't sure she was ready to say. She wanted to say she would stand as long as he wanted her to. As long as he needed her to.

A part of her thought that BlackRose would roll her eyes and gag at her acting like a schoolgirl with a crush. Another part poked back that she _was_ a schoolgirl with a crush, and, in many ways, so was the warrior she pretended to be.

Akira gave her pillow an affectionate squeeze as she slipped under her bedsheets. _We'll do better next time._


	14. New Leads

**Dothack: Rejoinder**

A Dothack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: Apologies for the delay; sadly, my schedule doesn't leave as much leisure time as I'd like. Like I didn't have enough problems sticking to a writing schedule, eh? Anyway, nothing major to note here apart from Dean being all sleuthy and struggling with the vagaries of another country's cartoons. We'll start to see stuff get crazy in the next couple chapters, so do stay tuned, and I'll do my best to write faster ^^_

_Onward!_

* * *

**New Leads**

* * *

_From: DStollis _

_To: Kite, Balmung, Orca, Sanjuro, BlackRose, Crim, BT, Kamui Subj: Sitrep_

_I went over the logs from last night and compiled it with my notes, and here's what we have so far: Kazushi Watarai (AKA Albireo) was working on something called Lycoris, apparently some... thing inside the game world; the woman I spoke with suggested it was some kind of rogue AI, separate from the Wave and Morganna and such. He butted heads with a few people on staff, and this is apparently where concerns over the long-term stability of The World began._

_Apart from the still mysterious circumstances of Albireo's departure, I don't have anything personally to suggest foul play, or at least nothing that gives me a suspect. However, in light of what Poet said last night, we must still consider the possibility that something, or someone, is tailoring this infection to our behavior. I want everyone on their guard until we can figure out whether to trust her or not, and especially so if she's telling the truth._

_I'm returning to Cyber Connect HQ to follow up on a few leads. As your administrator friend Kamui suggested, see if you can take down more bugs and use that data to track more. Beyond suppressing the infection, knowing how it works may give Lios and company a clue as to where and how it started._

_Good hunting!_

_- Dean_

* * *

"What do you have so far?"

The chair groaned a bit as Dean sat down in it. He folded his hands on Francis' desk and cleared his throat, careful to keep his voice down. "Nothing that links anybody to the virus, unfortunately. However, I'm getting a better idea of why Albireo fingerquotes-left."

Francis leaned forward, glancing at one of his colleagues as the man passed by his office window. "Go on."

"Nina mentioned he was working on something called Lycoris; she described it as some kind of rogue AI fragment that preceded the Wave. She said he butted heads with your man Tokino on the occasion, especially where system administration is concerned."

"I know only a little about Lycoris, but there have been doubts about our security from the beginning." Francis shrugged. "To be honest, I can see what they mean."

"Yeah. Anyway, Tokino didn't openly advocate cutting The World either," Dean continued, "but he did use Watarai's work as evidence that security wasn't up to snuff. The Twilight incident proved that it wasn't a one-off, and it sounds like he was suggesting it could happen again."

The older man palmed his chin thoughtfully. "That sounds like the same thing Nina was saying."

"I get the impression they're coming from two different angles, though. Nina seems more neutral. The way Junichiro put it, she wouldn't bring it up unless she thought the concern was real." Dean paused. "I could be wrong, we didn't get to talk for long."

"I see. And Tokino?"

Dean reclined in his chair with a sigh. "He's hiding something. He didn't mention his little arguments with Watarai. Why, I don't know. I was planning on bouncing that off him, if he's here today."

"He is, but..." Francis spun around in his chair, facing the sunlit Tokyo skyline. "It would not reflect well on me if I let an unsupervised American from outside the company just wander around our building questioning our employees."

The detective held up his hands in defeat. "I get it, I'll go back down and leave a message with the secretary."

"You misunderstand," said Francis slowly, deliberately. "I'm simply saying that if a person happened to overhear that Mr. Igarimatsu's office is one floor down, room 717... well, that person would have to be very careful."

Dean couldn't see the vague, crafty crook in his lips, but the message went through loud and clear. "I'm sure they will be," he said in a low voice. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," said the administrator, facing Dean again. "I should tell you that Vice President Lee has taken an interest in your visits here. He'll probably haul me into his office the second he sees your name on the visitor list."

"I have that effect on people," Dean said flatly.

"Heh," Francis scoffed. His face then straightened out, the look in his eyes more serious. "Just watch your back."

"Will do. Thanks, Frank. Can I ask you one other thing?"

"Shoot."

The detective's tone changed from serious to silly, and he looked awkwardly off to one side. "Well, this is gonna seem kinda random, but last night I fell asleep watching some anime they made, like, years ago, and I wanted to ask you about..."

"Ugh," Francis groaned, palming his forehead. "Just spit it out, Dean."

"What the hell is 'I'm the bone of my sword' supposed to mean?"

The administrator stared at Dean, puzzled. "Did they mean bane?"

"Nah, he definitely said bone."

"Probably just a mistranslation."

"Ah-huh. Interesting." Remembering what he came to the office for, he cleared his throat and straightened himself out. "All right, I better get going. See you, Frank."

Francis waved to Dean as he excused himself, standing up and taking his leave from Moritsu's office. Doing his best to look casual, he made a beeline for the nearest staircase and pushed the door open.

His footfalls echoed up and down the staircase as he descended. He started to feel nervous, wondering if someone was going to call him out the second he set foot on the floor. _What do I do if he's not there?_ he thought. _Gonna have to think of something. And I'll need an excuse if I'm caught._

Arriving at the seventh floor landing, Dean casually slipped through the door, watching all around him for any passers by. Finding himself alone, he braced the door with an arm and let it close quietly, and he immediately started scanning nearby offices. _Improvise, silly. What you do best._

He followed the numbers along taupe walls and wooden doors, counting down from 730. A few heads turned from nearby cubicles and offices, but looked back down in disinterest. The hall was clear, barely a soul in sight and little but the clacking of keyboards to be heard. Still, he felt apprehensive as he passed under an ominous black globe concealing a security camera. He couldn't help but brace himself for a shouted order to stop, a hostile interrogation by a suspicious guard or officer, the Japanese equivalent of "stop right there, criminal scum!"

721. 720. No order came. He sidestepped a ladder and toolbox set up under a darkened light fixture, with no one around to work on it.

_C'mon man, loosen up. You broke into this place before, remember? You saved their asses and security's on your side. This is your house._ 718. 717. _Let's pick this guy's brain some more._

Dean's anxiety was wasted; Tokino's office was lit and open, but empty. He let out a deep sigh and muttered, "Swell."

A thought crossed his mind, and he looked at the nearest cubicles: both were vacant, and nobody else was nearby. _Yeah, this is going to do wonders for my reputation. Eh, what the hell._ He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, and entered Tokino's office.

His eyes swept the threshold, finding few noteworthy details: business degree on the wall, personal photos filling a shelf, a couple unmarked binders on a small table. Tokino's desk was a mess of indecipherable paperwork, and Dean was wary of disturbing the pile too much. Instead he grabbed a few clean post-its and went for the phone.

Snapping a pen off the desk, he hit the menu button and began cycling through incoming call records. At first only internal extensions showed up; he scribbled down a few of the more frequent ones, putting hash marks to indicate how many he saw. In barely a minute he reached the end of the record, a scant 30 calls, and had only three actual phone numbers.

_Now for outgoing._ He pushed another button and repeated the process, flying over the black text on the green LED screen. Starting a fresh post-it, he found a match with one of the incoming phones, and drew a quick circle around it.

A few minutes passed, and nobody was the wiser. He carefully put the pen back atop the paperwork and stuffed the notes into his pockets. _Might be a dead end, but it wouldn't hurt to know who he's been talking to._

The detective wandered away from the desk, one eye on a nearby wall clock. "Wonder where he went," he said under his breath. "Can't stand here all day."

Voices from outside the office startled him, but one speaker sounded familiar. He spoke in Japanese, but the words were slow enough for Dean to translate: "Just tell them it won't be ready until at least Friday. We're still gathering information."

"Okay, I'll see you later," said another voice, walking away. Dean guessed the former was Igarimatsu, and sure enough, the bookish human resources chief appeared through the dooray. Dean started towards him to give the impression he was just leaving.

"Oh, hey!" said Dean with feigned surprise. "Sorry, I was just seeing if you were in today."

Toki didn't flinch at the detective's sudden appearance in his office, still absorbed in the clipboard in his hands. "Detective. I didn't know you were coming."

"I was in the neighborhood," he said quickly, his mind working with uncommon haste to generate an excuse to be here. "Long as I was here, I wanted to thank you in person for putting me in touch with Ms. Chinari. You didn't have to do that, and it was a big help."

"Of course, you're quite welcome, Mr. Stollis," said Tokino. Although he sounded surprised at the detective's words, if he believed them he didn't acknowledge it beyond a simple nod. "Was there something you needed?"

Dean stowed his doubts for the moment, adopting a polite facade. "Actually, I did have a question. Just one, if you have a second. If you're busy, though, it can wait."

Toki 'hmm'ed to himself, walking around Dean towards his desk and refocusing on his clipboard. "Go ahead," he said without looking up.

"Nina mentioned Lycoris, and said you and Watarai had disagreements over it. WOuld you be willing to elaborate?"

"In what way?"

"She said you had concerns about whether security could handle the problem."

Toki sat down slowly, and looked up at Dean again. He said nothing right away, instead turning the clipboard in his hands and sliding it towards Dean on the desk. He motioned to the chair in front of him. "Have a seat, please. There's something I'd like to show you."

Off put by the sudden change in demeanor, Dean obediently sat in the chair as Toki continued. "These numbers will be reported to the Ministry of Health, Labor, and Weelfare by the end of this week, two days from now. They'll likely be in the papers the day before. Please, have a look." He nudged the clipboard for emphasis.

Dean picked up the document and scanned it. The numbers may as well have been Greek to him, but the headline told part of the story. "'Pension and Benefits Payouts by Month, Fiscal Years 2010 and 2011,'" Dean read. "Walk me through the numbers."

"The numbers indicate a spike in long-term medical and disability payouts throughout the years, coinciding with the resurgence. There are earlier trends, but this is when they became more pronounced." Toki's tone grew icy. "Good men were hospitalized for months or longer thanks to this mess. As you can imagine, that can be quite costly over time. While it may seem callous to worry about the money, someone has to. You see, when your employees fall comatose in large numbers, well... let's just say Social Insurance starts asking a lot of pointed questions."

Dean quietly took in the data, rereading the document in his hands. Some of the numbers grew clearer, and as Toki suggested they showed a surge in disability claims and payments; a painful one, if he understood the figures correctly. "I'm with you so far."

"This created an accounting nightmare. While our actual coverage hasn't suffered - yet - this still adds up to a sizable amount of money from a pool that's been underfunded for years. Add to this a major selloff in response to our internal... difficulties, and you have an investment profile that can charitably be described as toxic. Smaller companies would have folded by now, and not much smaller to be sure."

Toki held out his hand, motioning for Dean to return the clipboard. Taking it back, he added, "And then there's the human cost, Mr. Stollis, which is what I'm most concerned with. Empty cubicles with no clear explanation. Panicked, tearful phone calls from friends, family, loved ones. People dying, detective, dying over a game."

"You don't need to tell me that part," Dean said glumly.

"I'm sure I don't. Nevertheless, to answer your question I felt Watarai's reports, especially Lycoris, were simply a sign of things to come. Watari did indeed care about The World, but he wanted more men and resources to investigate from within and I feared this would be putting them at risk. In light of prior incidents, I felt that risk was too great; the virus and the AI fragments were things we didn't know we could counter, and I felt a more conservative approach would be wiser."

"He disagreed?"

"Amicably, to be sure." Toki gave a bitter sigh. "As it was, I felt our administrators were incapable of dealing with the threat at the time, and also that the threat was both widespread and recurring. Watarai was able to handle Lycoris with the help of a handful of players - he mentioned one by name, Hokuto - but he never spoke much of it beyond that."

The name rang a bell with Dean, but he let Toki continue. "This did prove it was possible to contain the problems, but it and the resurgence supported the other half of my theory; that more were on the way."

"So in short, you're saying you felt your men could only delay the problem," said Dean. Of all things, memories of role-playing games flashed through his mind; of the thousand-year trope where the demon or whatever could only be sealed away, never killed. _At least until the band of spiky-haired teenagers shows up to do it right. Heh, that actually works on a couple levels here._

"Somewhat, yes. That, I'm afraid, was our disagreement. I don't know if it's related to why Watarai left, but as time went on the costs got harder to justify. And who'd want to work on a product that breaks even more every time it's fixed?"

The point hit its mark, causing Dean to shift uncomfortably in his seat. He was silent for a while, head lowered in contemplation. "I see," he mumbled. "All right. That makes sense, then. Thank you for your time."

Tokino relaxed a bit, and nodded to the detective. "Certainly. If you'll excuse me, I have some work to do."

Dean pushed away from the desk, standing up. "Of course. Oh, one more thing. I wanted to ask Nina one more question, do you happen to have her extension?"

"Sure, it's 5725. She's not in today, but just leave something on her voicemail. She'll get back to you."

"Sounds good. Take it easy, Tokino."

The thin-faced chief smirked. "You too."

Hands in his pockets, Dean left the office, his fingers grazing the post-its he'd hastily grabbed. _Well, his concerns seem legit. Can't fault him for being skeptical. But if Nina's just reporting the facts and Toki's just worried about staying in budget and keeping his people on their feet... I dunno. I'm missing something, I just know it._

Dropping the pretense of hiding, he headed for the elevators. _Either someone's lying to me, or this thing's the real deal. And if he's right, then this whole thing could get a lot worse real soon._

* * *

"Fan out! Go for the body!"

Spear, sword, and daggers whipped through the air as they chopped at the massive stone beast. Lines of code flared up upon impact, concealing and regenerating each injury. The golem reared a fist back and threw it at the ground, causing the three players to scatter as the grassy plain was pulverized.

Kamui slid backwards several paces, spinning her spear and bracing herself for another lunge. She saw Kite duck back in and dance under the monster's swing, slicing quickly but fruitlessly at the hacked monster. Opposite him, BlackRose flipped head over heels and drove her massive blade smack into its arm, and the blow would have severed the hand of a normal creature of its type.

The report came early in the morning: several bug sightings spread out across multiple servers. The outbreak was worrying, but to Kamui for a different reason than the obvious one. _We just happen to need to kill some of these, and look what shows up the next day. That's a little too convenient._

Although not in the game, both Kite and BlackRose had been online and at the ready. Kamui was quick to isolate one of the bugs specifically for Kite, and requested to form up and observe him taking the beast down.

She wound up with her spear, a custom weapon courtesy of system administration with quite literally the highest stats possible. It was little consolation as she drove it home; a large, red-colored number popped up from the golem's chest as she landed her strike, but its hit point counter merely changed from one set of random symbols to another. Fixing her jaw in place, she withdrew her spear and thrust again.

BlackRose jumped to her right, narrowly dodging another overhead smash. With no small amount of finesse, she then raked her blade along the monster's arm, carving a deep, jagged hole from hand to elbow in one smooth swing. "Come on, break down already!" she growled, righting her blade for another swing.

The golem's attention centered on the Heavy Blade, giving ample opportunity for Kite to jump at its back. Launching into a stacatto specialty, Kite bounced back and forth between strikes, practically leaping from one leg to the other as his blows landed. The creature was simply too slow for the three fighters; victory was only a matter of time.

Sure enough, as Kite finished a dramatic aerial spin away from his target, a bright green globe encircled the golem. "It's broken!" shouted BlackRose, stating the obvious. "Finally! Let him have it!"

Kamui backed up, keeping the monster well within her field of vision. Offline, her player flicked through the display, ensuring that the recorder was running. As before, lines of code stretched across the screen, ensnaring and tightening around the monster's hacked shielding. She saw Kite appear to hover as shards of green spun around his arm, arranged as if a bracelet. The shards pointed outward, and the lines pulsed; the field cracked and thundered as the corrupted code was blown away, and Kite abruptly dropped to the ground.

The grassland was quiet save for the annoying, repetitive battle music playing in the background. Kamui ignored it and charged back towards the monster, though she did notice Kite struggling for breath.

BlackRose struck on her side as Kamui lunged towards the golem's belly, and both warriors landed their strikes with deadly accuracy. Their Twin Blade companion barely had time to rejoin the fray and land a strike of his own before the rock monster had been crippled and disemboweled.

Its hit points exhausted, the golem tumbled back to the earth, its component rocks vanishing as they broke up and rolled away.

"Not bad," said Kamui, acknowledging Kite. "Not bad at all."

Kite smiled. "Thanks. Were you able to record what you needed to?"

"I should have, yes. I'll run the recording in a bit and isolate the residual data, and this should give us an idea of what to look for."

BlackRose watched as the last few rocks disappeared. "It's strange that so many would appear all of a sudden. Have any other fields been corrupted?"

Kamui glanced over at BlackRose, surprised that the girl shared her suspicion. "No, so far server integrity hasn't changed. We'll know later if this is a temporary surge or evidence of a larger outbreak. Hopefully this data will help us track it."

"Unless we're being watched, like that Poet player said," BlackRose replied.

"Even if we are, there's no way to know right now," said Kite. Looking thoughtful, he added, "although it would help if we knew who she was. Then at least we'd know if we could trust her or not."

Shouldering her spear, Kamui turned from BlackRose to Kite. "Well, she said she wasn't Hokuto, who's one of the few I knew for sure worked with Albireo. Chinari stopped by my desk the other day when I saw you with her at the tree, and she's the only other person I'd suspect. It has to be someone else."

"I wonder..." BlackRose said quietly.

"Hmm?" Kamui blinked at her.

"Oh, nothing," the Heavy Blade tried to wave it off.

Kite wasn't deterred. "What's on your mind, BlackRose?"

"Honestly?" she asked. "I'm starting to wonder if Poet's even a normal player."

"What do you mean?"

BlackRose let her sword fall to her side, the tip just touching the ground. "Well, Dean's email said that Lycoris thing Albireo was working on had something to do with AI, right? And... I mean, The World has had characters playing with their players hospitalized, hasn't it?"

Recollections flitted through Kite's mind: the showdown with Corbenik; his friend Orca, BlackRose's brother Kazu, and countless others appearing to help them fight. He heard stories of earlier events, of a Wavemaster trapped in the game and confused by Morganna as the player lay comatose in a hospital. "Yeah... yeah, you're right."

The Long Arm craned her neck skyward, mulling over the possibility. "I suppose we really don't know who or what we're dealing with, do we," she said under her breath. Louder, she added, "In any case, I'll get to work on the data. Good work, and thank you both for the help."

The words seemed stiff but sincere, and Kite replied with a friendly, enthusiastic nod. "Glad to help!" he said to her, throwing a smiley face at the end of the text box for emphasis.

BlackRose swore she saw the Long Arm roll her eyes before gating out, and for a moment she recalled taking orders from an older, fatter administrator. _This is bringing back all sorts of memories,_ she thought bitterly.

"We should get back to town," said Kite. "You still have studying to do, don't you?"

"Huh? Oh, right," BlackRose fumbled, pulled back from her thoughts. She turned towards Kite's smiling face, and felt herself brighten a bit in response. _All sorts of memories,_ she repeated, a touch happier. "Guess it'd be too much to hope for to get this sorted out in time for my exam, would it?"

Kite chuckled, shooting her a smiley. "Hey, you can always hope."


	15. Due Diligence

**Dothack: Rejoinder**

A Dothack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: In this scene, drama, misfortune, and sneaky intelligence gathering. Cue up the 'dun dun dunnnn!' guy; you'll know when. This scene took multiple forms before I found one I was happy with. Rest assured that, in the parlance of our time, shit is about to get real for everyone involved. Even people that aren't currently present. In fact, especially them. Although I haven't mentioned it in a while, do note that comments and criticism are all welcome. I'm doing my best to stay in relative canon with the universe, but by all means let me know if I miss anything._

* * *

**Due Diligence**

* * *

The phone warbled quietly into his ear, mixing with the crunch of pretzels between his teeth. Through the windshield, Dean stared blankly out at the convenience store parking lot, having punched in the number for Masamoto's office.

The lieutenant's low, even voice answered after two rings. "Masamoto."

"Hey Masa, it's Dean."

"My favorite American," said the lieutenant dryly, followed with a good-natured chuckle. "What can I do for you?"

"Need an itty-bitty favor. You able to pull up a rap sheet for me?"

"Uh... Dean, it works a bit differently over here."

"Not that differently. Don't worry, I just need to know if this guy I'm looking into has any priors. Considering what I've gone through before, I think it's a reasonable precaution."

Dean had a hunch the lieutenant was rolling his eyes over the phone. "Fine, fine, but not a word of this to anybody. What's the name?"

"Manake Pirinako."

"Searching... hmm, looks like we have a hit. If this is your guy, you have... ah, here we go. One DUI, one assaulting an officer. Your friend likes the sauce and he hit a cop after getting pulled over. Charming, but nothing exotic. Although... wait, what's this?"

Dean snatched up a notepad, setting aside the bag of pretzels. "What's up?"

No immediate response. Then Masamoto scoffed. "Damn rookies. Booking officer missed a few pieces of information. No employer, immediate family, that kind of thing."

"Any known accomplices?"

"There is one guy listed, Saito Koda, but he lives in Osaka. No record on him, looks like he was just in the car at the time Pirinako was pulled over."

_Wonder if that's one of his charming friends from the bar,_ Dean wondered, writing the name and city down. "All right, that's more than enough. Thanks Masa."

"Take it easy, Dean."

Dean hung up with a push of a button and scratched the word 'bar' over Saito's name. Picking up the post-its, he started dialing the matching number from Tokino's phone. A small pack of teenaged kids scrambled across the parking lot, laughing about something and chattering excitedly in their language. One threw a curious look towards Dean, and Dean did his best to ignore him as he dialed.

"Moshi moshi, Sky Court Koiwa Hotel," chirped a cheerful female voice, a receptionist.

_A hotel, huh? The numbers wouldn't match if someone was calling from one of the rooms. He must've had business there._ Dean recalled a few choice Japanese words and awkwardly slapped together a sentence. "Hi. I'm... looking for... address to your location. Apologies, Japanese is... second language to me."

"I understand," she replied in Japanese, seeming to smile into the line. "Do you have a pen with you?"

"Yes, go ahead."

"Good. We're at 6-11-4 Kita-koiwa in Edogawa-ku." She spoke slowly, politely giving Dean time to write the address down and repeat it back to her. When he finished, she added, "Do you need directions?"

_That's not far from the airport._ "No thank you, although I do have another question. Can you tell if a... certain guest... is at your hotel? His name is Manake Pirinako."

"One moment, please." A pause and some faint keyboard typing. "I'm afraid I'm unable to find a guest by that name."

_Damn. All right, one more shot in the dark._ "He may be... traveling with a Saito Koda. Can you check for him, please?"

"One moment." More typing. "Ahh, yes, we do have a Mr. Koda registered here."

"Excellent. Would you be able to tell me his room number?"

The phone let out a mocking beep, cutting him off in midsentence. Puzzled, Dean stared at the screen; the flashing battery icon said it all.

"Oh, come on!" he yelled. He tried pressing the call button, hoping fruitlessly to find another minute of power. The phone sat silent in response, and he discarded it on the passenger seat with a disgusted sigh. "Damn it."

It wasn't a huge setback; he was planning on staking the place out anyway. Something about the thugs didn't fit to him: they just happened to show up at the bar, just happened to be there when Nina was too, just happened to bump into him. The disparate thread of thought twisted around in his head, seemingly separate from the larger mess with The World. He couldn't yet tie them together, but it gnawed at him all the same.

A single voice from within called him out. _You sure you're not just stalking some guy to get even? Cover up the fact that you don't have any real leads?_

He glared at himself in the rearview mirror, staring down his doubts. _Fuck off,_ he thought icily.

Nonetheless, he slumped in the driver's seat, accepting that he didn't have much to go on. _Tokino calling the hotel could have been a coincidence, but it's a big one._) He turned the ID over in his hands, studying the picture. _Still, just talking to people isn't gonna get me anywhere. Time to follow a hunch._

* * *

The pen danced clumsily around her twitching fingers, her thumb guiding it slowly as she watched the progress bar fill on the screen. Her foot bounced on her toes as she watched black boxes of white text appear and disappear, the program processing the data it had been fed.

_Come on, come on, come onnnnn... give us something we can work with._

Her thumb slipped and the pen clattered to the desk. She tsked and snatched it back up, scratching the back of her neck with her other hand. Her fingernail scraped against an unsightly nicotine patch, a reminder of the real reason for her restlessness. _Damn things aren't doing it anymore. If only I hadn't thrown out my last pack..._

"Hey Saki, got something for you."

The frail, short-haired woman spun in her chair and faced her box-carrying coworker, acknowledging him with a brief nod. "Thanks Jun, just set it on the floor."

He set the box down with an ungraceful thud. "What's going on?" he asked as she turned back to the computer.

"Just a few more seconds," she muttered. "Moritsu has me debugging some recording software, taking two sessions and measuring background I/O activity."

"Huh?"

Saki glanced at her taller companion. "It's technical."

"You lost me at debugging. You might want to get some fresh air on your break, you're looking a little paler than usual."

She dismissed him with a wave. "Yeah, whatever."

Jun shrugged and walked off, leaving Saki to her work. The bar finished, and the last text window disappeared. With a loud crack of her knuckles, she began typing further commands. "Finally. All right, let's see... what you look like." On the keyboard, she punched in: run "" sort "."

The script's analysis popped up in a crude series of line graphs charting server activity per second over elapsed time, a total of seven graphs; one for each data bug her team had encountered, plus the one she fought with Kite. _Okay, there was the spike when each was destroyed. That's normal, relatively. Let's filter for server traffic._

More typing; a spinning hourglass, and the graphs shrunk dramatically across the board, some down to virtually nothing. _Okay. Removing outliers... smoothing out server variances... snip the minute or so right around the spike...and let's see what we have._ The graphs adjusted themselves to her commands, and she started to see similarities between a few of them.

_Kite's data still shows anomalies close to the spike, but the further out it goes the more it looks like the others. Still not quite enough though._

With a click of the mouse, the bars displayed numbers; packets sent and received to each individual field. She cupped her chin and read the numbers silently, searching for anything that stuck out to her. Her eyes wandered over to the 'total packets sent/received' column, and she bounced from one set of numbers to the next.

_Not counting the spike, the numbers are pretty close overall, but I don't see a pattern yet. Something off about these numbers... let's try sorting by averages._

She quickly saved the on-screen data in a separate file, then went back to the command prompt to type in the name of a simple script: _run avrgall set197-edited_. An ascii line flipped end-over-end to indicate the program was working, and within seconds lines of text started to print.

_Compiling..._

_field01 _

_Min: 194/218 _

_Max: 2236/2236 _

_Mean: 1482.003/1210.91 _

_Median: 1129/1058_

The largest number stuck out somehow, but she jumped to the next set before she could think about it.

_field02 _

_Min: 136/169 _

_Max: 2236/2236 _

_Mean: 1129.01/1024.56 _

_Median: 1229/1171_

This time she followed it up the screen as the next set of numbers appeared. _Hmm. Interesting coincidence._

_field03 _

_Min: 196/174 _

_Max: 2236/2236 _

_Mean: 1377.564/1605.888 _

_Median: 1019/1246_

_Something's not right. The exact same number for three fields?_ The next four fields quickly filled the screen, showing her a variety of numbers, but all with the same max number. Quickly she flipped back to the graph and did a search for the number in question, and a series of red dots appeared on each one.

Several pulls of the mouse allowed her to overlay the graphs, and while the dots didn't match up perfectly, they did have identical intervals. Zooming in, she saw that no matter incoming or outgoing activity, the line made hasty spikes to that point, some so sudden as to be nearly invisible.

_Sustained, regular activity. This might be what I'm looking for._

Her hand went for a phone and she punched in a four-digit extension. The line picked up after two rings, and she didn't wait for the person on the other end to speak. "Yae, it's Saki. Get online and record the last five minutes of I/O activity from Sigma: Chosen Forbidden Remnant, the tree field. I think I've found something."

* * *

"How soon?"

Balmung folded his arms, shaking his head at the Twin Blade. "Minutes, maybe. She's doing a couple more tests to be sure it's not a fluke."

"We just got the data a couple hours ago. She couldn't have had time to start searching for other bugs, could she?" Kite gave a worried glance over at the Sigma server gate. "Or was it something in the data that she saw?"

"She mentioned Chosen Forbidden Remnant specifically," said Balmung.

"I don't think it's a bug," said Orca. "Any word from Sanjuro or BlackRose?"

Kite sighed. "BlackRose didn't reply, I think she's away from her computer. Sanjuro said he had company coming, but told us to be careful."

"Great," the Azure Sea grumbled.

Magical rings appeared near the gate, sliding downward over unseen players as they logged in. The bodies of BT and Crim materialized before the server's stony ramparts, and they quickly spotted and approached Kite's group.

"We received your message," said the blonde Wavemaster in her usual deliberate tone, though a swallow punctuated her sentence and suggested concern. "What's going on?"

"We're waiting on Kamui," said Kite. "She told Balmung something was happening with the locked field, but she didn't say what. She'll be here soon to open the field so we can check it out."

"No admins are in the field yet?" Crim asked dubiously. "What are they waiting for?"

"Making sure we're not jumping at shadows," Balmung answered. "The company can't move people much faster than we can."

Crim grunted, but said nothing. Without warning, the ground beneath them trembled; barely, but tangibly. The characters wobbled on their feet but stayed standing, the players looking around in confusion.

"What was that?" said Orca.

"Beats me, although..." another tremor cut Balmung off, and while he didn't have to fight to stay upright, the motion thoroughly jarred his player. "Another one! What is this?"

Bemused chatter and mild cries of panic echoed across the gate enclosure as other characters reacted to the shaking; a nearby Wavemaster reached for his head with both hands and pressed up against his temples, miming the removal of his visor. Static flashed across the sky of the root town, causing some to jump with a start and others to stop and stare.

BT's hand trembled, a familiar unease chewing its way into her. She threw a knowing look at Crim, and he nodded sternly in answer.

"Damn it Kamui, where are you?" Balmung grumbled, staring at the gate.

As if spoken into existence, the armored spearwoman shimmered into view before them. She abruptly waved them over, calling out, "Come on! We've found something."

"What's happening?" Kite asked.

"Not here. Form up and follow me!"

Kite and the others traded looks of worry and alarm, but joined with Kamui and formed quick groups of three. Together they brought up the gate interface, punching in the keywords and hitting 'accept.'

Fort Ouph melted away, vanishing to a black loading screen for all. It was soon replaced by a white field, nondescript; empty brightness in all directions. It took seconds for each player to realize they had come out of teleport, that the field they had expected was no more.

"It's... gone?" Orca whirled his head around. "Where is everything?"

"Everything vanished just minutes ago," Kamui said with unusual calm. "I scanned the data and found a pattern in the background. The pattern is repeating itself here. Then suddenly the whole field just broke away and shattered."

Kite gazed up into the empty sky, then down at the white floor beneath him. With no shadow, no texture, not even a point of reference, he couldn't even be sure he was standing on anything. "My display still works. I can still see the dungeon on my map."

"Functionally, the field hasn't changed. As for this..." Kamui gestured around her with her spear. "I don't know. We've got some of our techs looking into it. I came here alone to run another test, and then everything fell apart. The tree is still here though, and the Knights are on their way."

"What's happening with the tree?" asked Crim. "And why tell us instead of your men?"

Kamui didn't look back at him as she started towards the dungeon. "You all have more experience with this, and would know what this means," she said cryptically.

Kite blinked, letting out a puzzled "huh?" as he led his half of the group forward.

It wasn't long before they could see what she meant. The tree appeared on the horizon, slowly gathering detail as it entered their field of view. Kite spotted the difference immediately: where the tree had been bereft of green, it now sported a full plume of healthy leaves. It still wrapped itself around the dungeon and burrowed its roots into the 'ground' around it, where they vanished from view.

"The data set I saw all had one number in common," said Kamui, unperturbed by the sight of the tree. "That number is a repeating burst of input from, and output to, some unknown location. We're trying to track it now, but it could take days to isolate a point of origin."

"But you can measure the pattern, right?" Kite asked.

"Yes, and that will help us predict where a bug can appear. It's no guarantee - we'd need a much larger sample size to be sure - but it's a start."

Soon enough the parties reached the tree, slowing to a stop and clustering before the roots covering the dungeon's entrance. "So why come here?" asked Orca. "We don't even know if the infection is coming from here."

"It's as good an area as any to begin testing the scanning algorithm." Kamui brought up a menu unique to administrators, allowing access to her desktop and mod tools. "And regardless of where it's coming from, it certainly involves this field somehow. If we have a match, we'll know what to look for."

"You said, 'we would know what this means,'" said Kite. "Do you mean the tree?"

Kamui strode up to the tree, craning her neck to gaze up at the new foliage. "You all know of The World's origins, its... interesting history. Presumably you know of Harald, of Emma Wielant and her influence on Fragment - and, subsequently, The World."

"She wrote the poem upon which The World was based," said BT. "The Epitaph of the Twilight. He... the Harald AI spoke of Aura as proof of his love for her."

"And you, Kite," Kamui glanced at the younger red warrior, "you have encountered places like this, yes? Balmung, you spoke of similar encounters during the resurgence."

Balmung looked around him, his usually stoic features melting as uncomfortable memories bubbled back up. "They were as if memories. Or rather, bits of memories; frozen images, disembodied voices, documents and such."

"This world has meaning," said Orca. "Is that what you're saying?"

"The tree is where... Harald waited for Emma," BT added, her voice quieting. "He waited, not knowing she had died in a car crash."

"We saw an image like this." Kite glanced up at the tree, then back to his companions. "But it was reversed. We saw a woman... BlackRose said it was Emma."

"It was Harald's mind that shaped the game," Balmung said. "The story is that Emma loved someone else, but in his mind, she waited for him, for their..."

"Daughter," Orca finished. "He imagined her to be waiting for Aura."

Crim stared at the tree, his face expressionless. "So this is where work on The World truly began."

"Yes and no. That chapter of The World is closed," Kamui turned and nodded to the group, "thanks to your help, of course. But this symbol is deliberate."

The male Long Arm fixed his gaze on Kamui. "A virus wouldn't use symbols. So what are you saying?"

"Kite, your friend BlackRose mentioned earlier about the possibility of AI involvement, yes?" asked Kamui.

"Yes... yes, she did."

A look of realization hit BT, and she whirled towards the tree with a start. "You think the infection's tied to the creation of a new AI."

"Something is being made here," said the administrator. "As your detective friend said, Albireo's work with Lycoris involved vagrant AIs."

"And Albireo went missing," BT continued the thought. "Then this tree sprouts up..."

"...while someone named Poet appears, looking for him," said Balmung. "She's the one that pointed this field out to us."

Orca frowned. "That doesn't prove that something's being created here. Kite, Balmung, you said those fields were like pictures, or thoughts."

"It may be using that construct as a base for field modification." Kamui typed out a few commands, bringing up a large window before the group. "But there is something here, I'm certain of it. Preliminary scans showed the pattern I found appears in this field, background data spikes coming from somewhere. There's more, though."

Kite blinked, turning an ear towards the tree. He could swear he heard something. "What was that?"

"Can you hear it?" Kamui asked, only somewhat surprised. "Put your ear to the tree, you will hear it. You might even feel it."

"Feel?" Crim asked, doubt in his voice.

As Kite leaned in towards the tree, the rest turned their attention to the line graph Kamui summoned for them. The administrator zoomed in, highlighting the regular spikes in the graph in red. A second line then drew itself on the graph, running more or less parallel with the first, except for those same spikes, where it would reach the exact same point.

"This was the pattern. Like clockwork, background server activity showed these spikes in incoming and outgoing data."

Kite leaned his ear to the tree, and to his surprise the heavy bark seemed to rumble under his fingers. Startled, he took his hands off the controller, and the sensation decreased, but didn't quite go away. Nervously, he picked the controller back up and guided himself closer. In his other ear, he heard the chiming of several teleports all around the tree.

A party of armored soldiers appeared against the white backdrop; some looked around in confusion as two of the closest approached Kamui. "We assembled as quick as we could. Where do you need us?"

Turning away from the group for a second, Kamui spoke to her Cobalt Knights. "Run every diagnostic you have on that tree. I want round-the-clock surveillance of this field. Nobody gets in or out without our say so."

A faint thumping reached Kite's ears from the tree, almost drowned out by metal footsteps as the soldiers scattered and went to their duties. The thumping persisted, and his eyes caught a glimpse of Kamui's graph, then of Orca.

His mind flashed back to Pluto Again, to Yasuhiko, to the hospital. He heard his friend breathing, heard the attached heart meter beeping, saw the cliffs and valleys of the graph measuring his pulse. It all clicked, and the boy gasped.

"It's a heartbeat," he nearly whispered.

* * *

"I know they're closed now, I need it done first thing in the morning. Liquidate everything in package A, I will call tomorrow afternoon to discuss more options with you. I know what the futures say, but take my word for it. Call me as soon as it's done."

The message recorded, the elderly man hung up and turned towards his computer. He planted his elbows on the desk and propped his chin up with his thumbs, the image on the screen reflecting off his spectacles. Overhead, a fan spun quietly, swirling humid air around the spacious office.

_What are you after?_ he thought to the man in the picture, an image from a security camera. A thirty-something American in a plain button-down and khakis casually strolled by an open office, one floor below where security had cleared him to visit. With a click, the image changed to show the American entering someone's office. Another click, and the following image showed that office's owner arriving a few minutes later.

He reached for the phone and dialed in an extension. "Sara, it's Lee."

"Yes, Mr. Vice President, what can I do for you?"

"I understand Mr. Dean Stollis visited the premises recently," said Lee.

"Yes, sir."

"I would like to speak with him," he said, his voice stern. His eyes wandered over to the ornamental swords on his wall. "Make... arrangements... to have him meet with me."

"In the office, sir, or..." she deliberately trailed off.

"Elsewhere would be preferable. Have two company cars outside in two hours, and notify my security team."

The secretary hesitated briefly. "Of course, sir. We do not yet have Mr. Stollis' phone number, shall I ask Mr. Moritsu?"

Lee jumped from the image to another menu, one displaying a satellite overlay of downtown Tokyo. A bright, red blip on the map made its way down a few sidetreets, its destination unknown. "No need," he said simply. "We will find him."


	16. Resurgence

**DotHack: Rejoinder**

A DotHack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: As with previous chapters, this one took a few different forms before I finally settled on something fit for print, so to speak. Nothing special to note this time, although I apologize in advance for the dual cliffhanger. Rest assured that the following chapter is more concrete in my mind, and will come along quicker. Doing my best to write in between a busy work schedule, so I do apologize for any delays._

* * *

**Resurgence**

* * *

The Sky Court Koiwa struck Dean as fairly modest, comparable to any number of low-cost chain hotels that dotted the US, with only a bamboo plant and katakana on the signs to distinguish itself as Japanese. A few clients milled around the tiny lobby, which was well lit from the large windows and simple chandelier. A single bored-looking girl guarded the desk, and as Dean started towards her a concern threatened his plan.

_Hope it's not the same girl I talked to_, he thought. He spun the plastic bag around his wrist, concealing the notebook and digital camera inside. _This'll look suspicious enough, but with any luck they'll be out to lunch or something. Too bad there wasn't a key in the guy's wallet._

"Hi, can I help you?" the clerk asked cheerfully as he approached, and to Dean's relief her voice sounded different than the one he spoke to.

Dean smiled at the girl, bringing out the wallet. "Yes, hi. I... do contract work with Cybert Connect. I'm from... Los Angeles office, excuse my Japanese," he lied, nervousness causing him to trip over a few words.

"Ah, I see," she bowed her head, briefly hiding her face behind her monitor. She cleared her throat into a fist and then sat up straight. "What may I do for you, sir?"

Dean got the impression she was suppressing a giggle at his expense, but let it go. "A client... left his wallet at a meeting. He is... guest here at the hotel. I was asked to return it... to him. I was told he's in his room, but the, uh... the secretary forgot to give the room number. I'd like to bring it up to him, if... if I may. He's staying with Saito Koda."

He drew in a quick breath, hoping that he phrased everything properly. He waited for her to reject his request, or pick up a phone and call security over the suspicious foreigner, but to his surprise the girl smiled and simply typed in the name. "Here we are. Room 326."

Seizing the opportunity, Dean bowed out of the conversation with a quick "Thank you very much," and turned towards the elevator. As he punched the call button, he thought, _I still don't know how I'm going to get inside, but hopefully nobody's in the room._

He slipped into the elevator as the door opened and hit the third floor button. Within seconds the elevator dropped him into a narrow hallway, carpeted blue with beige wallpaper. He followed the numbered doors down and soon found his mark: room 326.

Cautiously, he pressed his ear against the door, mindful of a maid wheeling her cart a few doors down. He couldn't hear any sounds from outside, and breathed a sigh of relief. _All right, that's one less obstacle to worry about. Now, the fun part..._ he thought, staring at the card reader on the door handle.

_My kingdom for an electronic pick._ Briefly he pondered less orthodox courses of action: kicking the door in was out; staking the place out was impractical; hiding somewhere in the building until they returned was unwise. _Remember the card on your door. They know you enough to try to screw with you. Gonna have to think outside the box on this one._

A pointed squeak came from down the hall, reminding him of the maid. _Well, 'confused American who hasn't figured this town out' seems to work so far. Not like I have to try that hard at it._ Doing his best to look flustered, he sheepishly approached the maid with his head hung low. "E-excuse me, may I ask for your assistance?"

The maid - a plump, plain-faced woman around Dean's age - gave him a short glance as she rearranged a few cleaning tools on her cart. She said nothing as she took off a pair of glasses, waiting for Dean to explain what he needed.

He avoided her gaze and rubbed the back of his neck, keeping up the farce. "Yes... this is kind of embarassing. You see, I..." he mentally stumbled, blanking on the word for 'locked'. "Damn it. Uh... my key is... in... the room. Room 326, I need to get inside."

She squinted at him, wiping the lenses on the shirt of her uniform. "You are guest?" she asked in English, her thick accent failing to hide her suspicion.

"Yes, yes," Dean answered with a big sigh of relief, exaggerating the reaction to her knowledge of English. "Sorry, I know my Japanese is sloppy. I'm still learning. Anyway, I'm in town with a tour group, but I forgot a couple things in my room and I left my key on the inside. Could I bother you to let me in for just a sec?"

She gave him a once-over, and though her expression didn't change, she pulled out a keycard from her pocket. With a shrug, she dipped it in the reader and cracked open the door for him. "Go ahead," she said, motioning towards the door.

"Thank you," Dean said courteously, skirting by the maid and slipping into the room. _All right, they might be back any minute, so I'll have to make this quick._

He dug out the camera and took a quick mental inventory of the room, noticing no fewer than four suitcases. Two were open, with a pile of used clothes next to each. _They really pack 'em in, don't they?_ he thought as he cased the two open ones, taking pictures of the room along the way. Spotting nothing of interest, he turned his attention to the nearest closed one and quickly zipped it open.

His hands rooted carefully through assorted clothes, and quickly found the sharp corner of a metal box. Lifting up the brown dress shirt covering it, he ran his fingers over the box and felt a logo imprinted on the bottom right corner. The name 'Beretta' and a mechanical combo lock suggested what the box contained.

_Japanese punks wouldn't be carrying guns. These guys are here on business._ He snapped a picture and rearranged the clothes as best he could, then closed the suitcase.

He scanned the room again, and his eyes fell on one of the bedside tables. A folded-up map of downtown Tokyo sat next to the phone with a few conspicuous marks on it.

_Hel-lo, what have we here?_ He unfolded the map and spread it on one of the beds, taking a few quick pictures. A thick 'x' marked the hotel, and another marked the relative location of Cyber Connect's headquarters. As if to throw him off, a couple tourist locations and restaurants were circled, but his eyes were drawn to the streets around his apartment.

A pair of x's flanked the building, one in a hotel across the street and another in an adjoining apartment. A third x marked the building itself, along with an arrow drawn to it. Something was written by it in kanji, but Dean couldn't translate it. Other locations were similarly marked.

_Lookouts, probably, for me. Now we're getting somewhere._ He snapped a picture and folded the map back up, placing it on the table where he found it.

"Why is our door open?" a voice called from the hall, and footsteps Dean hadn't been paying attention to suddenly caught his attention. Before he could figure out what was happening, a pair of men rounded the corner, both stopping dead in their tracks at the sight of the American.

Dean didn't immediately recognize them, but the cut on the lanky one's lip gave him away. His hawkish eyes widened in shock; he recognized the detective immediately. "You!" the thug shouted.

Caught red-handed, Dean fought down his fight-or-flight response and took on a more confident, accusatory tone. "Well, if it isn't fatman and little boy," he shot back, glancing at Cutlip's stouter companion. "Saito and Manake, right? Who the fuck are you guys? Why are you spying on me?!"

The two men looked at each other, and then at Dean. The man he assumed was Saito said something in Japanese; Dean couldn't decipher it. Then, without warning, the two bolted for the door, running as fast as they could.

"Hey, stop!" Dean shouted, hastily snatching up his bag and putting away the camera. _Fuckers know something, and I'm gonna find out what if I had to beat it out of them._

* * *

"So if a vagrant AI is what we're dealing with," Orca began, "what do we do? Does that mean the infection is part of this, or the system is trying to destroy it?"

Balmung held a hand up to settle him down. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. We still don't know anything for sure, it's just a theory for now."

"Assuming it's a vagrant, do you have a means to counter it?" Crim asked to Kamui.

"Once it manifests, yes," said Kamui. With an uneasy look, she added, "However, if it's tied to the system, there's no telling what would happen if we attempted to quarantine or delete it."

"It could be another like Aura," Kite suggested, nodding to her. "Which would mean it has a guardian of its own."

BT shook her head, turning her staff as if screwing it into the ground. "Or it could be trash data, or any number of things. The only real thing we know is that there's more to The World than the Epitaph. This may well signal the start of something else."

Crim glanced at her. "In other words, we're in new territory."

"More or less."

"So what do we do?" Orca pressed. "Wait until this thing emerges and hope for the best?"

A pair of knights broke away from the group clustered around the tree and ran up to Kamui, saluting her. "We're getting reports of data spikes on other servers, sir. What are your orders?"

Facing them, Kamui answered swiftly. "Begin running the new diagnostic. Start with the root towns and work your way along the fields with the most traffic to the least."

The knights exchanged looks. "The root towns?" asked one of them, perplexed.

"We can close fields, but towns are another matter," she said. "I want to be sure this isn't spreading into secure areas before we try anything. We're not taking any chances."

"Sir!" The knights teleported away.

Crim motioned BT aside, turning away from the party. He took a few steps into the white void, and heard the Wavemaster following behind him. When the others were safely out of earshot, he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "Just like old times, eh?" he asked rhetorically.

BT took another glimpse of the tree, its green-and-brown bulk a blot on the white background. "It's starting to feel that way."

"Any thoughts?"

She looked at him strangely. "You're asking me?"

"You always were two steps ahead of everybody else," said Crim evenly, turning to her. He loosened his grip on his spear, letting the blade touch the ground. His voice took on a joking lilt, and he gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "Damn, it's been a while. I've been out of the game for so long I barely remember how to play."

The Wavemaster chuckled softly. "I doubt that. It's been years and you're still at a higher level than me. You have been for as long as I've known you."

"In some ways. You preferred to play at your own pace," was his answer. A faint, but legitimate smile fell across his lips. "One of your more charming traits, frankly."

She smiled back briefly, her eyes returning to his avatar and giving him another appraisal. "I don't usually play," she said coyly, remembering her past exploits with the Long Arm. "You, however, played all the time."

"In a way, I needed to," he said. He suddenly looked uneasy and turned away, also reminded of their history. "Life is serious enough."

"For some, perhaps," said BT softly. She fidgeted; unseen to him, a dash of heat worked its way up her face. The heat was quickly tempered by memory, and she added, "For some... playing isn't enough."

Crim had a sense that she wanted to add something to the sentence, but swallowed offline and shook his head. He changed the subject. "In any case, I'd still like to hear your thoughts on this. I've been out of the game ever since. I don't know anything about what's going on, but it's starting to feel awfully familiar to me."

She gave a modest shrug. "I'm still late to this party myself. Like we said, this may well have nothing to do with the Epitaph. But if I had to guess..."

The Long Arm studied her expression, giving a tiny smirk when she frowned. "You're not going to say it, are you?" he asked.

To his surprise, she stared right back at him. "Everything in The World ties to the Epitaph somehow. I just don't think this is as far removed from it as we might think."

"Playing your cards close to the vest?"

Her mind drifted away from the empty field, away from the scurrying knights and her crimson companion. "I'll play them when we can make something with them."

Across the field, Kite slowly paced his way around the tree, taking in its details. He traced one of the roots into the ground, which sank a few feet below the invisible platform before fading from view. Cautiously, he put his ear to the trunk again, and still the thumping could be heard. The ersatz beating unnerved the player, and he quickly recoiled.

"It can't be happening again," he muttered. "It can't be..."

He looked down at his wrist, where the copy of the Twilight Bracelet normally appeared. Doubt tainted his voice, worry twisted his face. "Aura... did you do this? Did I do this?"

"You have to get out of here!"

The shout was distant, but the text was broadcast on a channel for the entire zone. Kite did a double-take as he saw the speaker's name. "Poet?!"

Clattering footsteps underlined the commotion as Kamui and company surrounded the breathless newcomer. The navy-clad Twin Blade gesticulated wildly, well out of character for her ninja-like appearance. "That thing is draining the area here! We have to get out!"

"How the hell did you get in?" Kamui scowled.

"The gate was wide open," said Poet, shooting a violet stare at the female Long Arm.

"She's lying!" shouted one of the knights. "I locked this field down myself!"

"Better check again," she shouted back. "It's gone. Anybody could just walk right in."

A brief silence as the knight gestured to an unseen menu. "It... it can't be!" he stammered. "Where did it go?!"

"Poet, what are you doing here?" Kite asked as he joined the group. "And what are you talking about?"

"That tree is drawing in data to support itself. It's limited to this field now, but it will spread. It acts like a broader drain attack, like your bracelet," she pointed to Kite. "It started with the ground, and now it's absorbed the whole field. What do you think it'll do to..."

"How do you even know this?" challenged Balmung. "Just who the hell ARE you?!"

The back-and-forth shouting dulled the sudden charge in the air, though a few of the knights suddenly started to look around nervously. Poet let her head hang for a second, then straightened up and glared at Balmung. "Fine, if you have to know, I'm an internal auditor for Cyber Connect. I represent one of the board members and am here to document the phenomena of The World. This is why I was looking for Albireo, I think he knows something about this."

"You work for the directors?" Kamui asked. "Who? Why all the secrecy?"

"No time for that!" Poet gestured frantically to the tree. "Look!"

"S-sir! The tree!"

Eyes turned to the tree; its leaves, once bright green, suddenly grew darker in color and shade. The branches twisted and curled, becoming misshapen and crooked as they bent around the base of the tree.

"Intruders detected," said a simple, emotionless female voice. It echoed across the plain white field, startling all even more than the sudden movement of the tree.

"The hell's going on?!" called Crim, gripping his spear and aiming it towards the tree.

"The source must be protected," said the voice with a hint of cold, mechanical menace. "The source must be nourished."

Kite felt a rumbling from his arm; the bracelet was reacting. Curious, he popped open a menu and selected the first attack spell he could find.

"I don't like where this is going," Orca muttered.

"We have to leave," Poet insisted. "It may attack us any minute."

Kite leveled a spell and cancelled it, taking note of the garbled name and hit point counter. "We can target it!" he shouted to his friends. "It's some kind of monster!"

"That means we can drain it," said Kamui. "Everyone, get ready!"

"Didn't you say something bad might happen if you do that?" BT asked.

"We may not have any choice!"

As if in response, a sudden streak of energy lashed out from the canopy of now-black leaves. The beam shot like a bullet towards the group, and everyone instinctively scattered. It sought its mark and lanced it with a deafening boom, and it was less than a second before someone saw what it was aiming for.

The beam lifted the paralyzed Poet off the ground, having impaled the Twin Blade through the chest. Her player grunted and strained, but gave no visible struggle as ugly white blocks of text began flowing along the bluish beam.

"Open fire!" Kamui bellowed. "Destroy that thing!"

The knights took aim, pointing their weapons toward the living tree, and suddenly the tree's roots began to writhe and shudder. A sharp, earthen spike suddenly erupted from the white ground beneath a pack of knights, knocking the three of them aside but fortunately doing no serious damage. Opposite the tree, BT snapped off a fire spell, and a massive burning sphere surrounded the tree. The sphere broke off into dozens of tiny fireballs, which streaked unerringly towards their target.

A large red damage indicator flashed over the tree, a four-digit contrast to the malevolent, moving mass of wood. "Lockdown isn't working!" shouted one of the knights. "We have to weaken it!"

"Somebody help her!"

Orca raced towards the beam, giving a mighty growl as he leapt into the air and brought his blade down over his head. The sword connected with the beam but seemed to bounce right off; electricity coursed up the blade and threw the Blademaster harshly to the invisible floor. Kite made a dash for Poet herself, but was similarly deflected as he tried to grab her.

"Orca!" Balmung steeled himself and raced over to his friend. He grabbed an arm and struggled to get his fellow Descendant back on his feet.

"Poet!" Kite cried fruitlessly, her cries of pain quite easily reaching his ears.

"Rrrgh... run! Damn it, just run!" she shouted down to him, the beam lifting her higher.

"What is this thing!" shouted Crim. He tumbled to his right as a spike erupted at his feet, and he joined a pair of knights in striking at it. Surprisingly, the blows connected and did damage, though the spike quickly retreated into the ground.

"The... poem left... things behind," Poet gasped. "Aaaah! It's stirring now... you can't contain it! Just get out of here!"

Horror filled Kite's eyes as he watched the color start to drain from Poet's character. Deep blue turned to gray, then white from the shoes up, the avatar fading into the background. "No!" he shouted, raising his arm towards the tree. "I'll stop it!"

It was no use, his bracelet wouldn't fire. The creature's protection intact, he could do little but watch as the Twin Blade was swiftly drained up to her head. She managed one desperate cry as the emptiness overtook her; the beam retracted, no longer holding anything aloft. Poet was gone.


	17. Parallel

**DotHack: Rejoinder**

A DotHack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: Fight scenes, chase scenes, and some ominous stuff going down in this chapter. It should go without saying that I've never actually been to Japan, and am certainly not familiar with the intricacies of public transit. For all I know they could have ditched turnstiles and just have a secret warrior race of sentient cat people to guard their subway trains from unlawful entry. That'd be pretty sweet, come to think of it. Additionally, I'm sort of toeing the line between Legend of the Twilight manga and anime here, since they sort of split off in different directions, with just a splash of GU foreshadowing if you know where to look._

_Anyway, on with the show!_

* * *

**Parallel**

* * *

"Keep that thing suppressed! Kaide, take your group and close up left! Get some people in there and lock that thing down!"

Kamui's orders almost went unheard over the din of battle as the tree lashed out at the knights. At range, more spikes erupted from the blinding void beneath them, scattering groups of knights and sending lone troopers scrambling to safety. The few who got close were promptly slashed at by thorny whiplike appendages, striking from within the impenetrable black canopy of leaves.

For their part, Kite's group was spread out along the battlefield, either striking at or avoiding whatever got close. The lone exception was BT, who quickly taxed her magic reserves trying to heal everyone in range.

"Use thunder!" shouted one of the knights as she fired off a spell. The oaken beast writhed and convulsed as bolts of lightning blasted it from out of thin air, scoring an apparent critical hit. "It's weak to thunder!"

A volley of similar spells rang out from some of the other knights, and Kite was quick to join in with his own magic. The ground under him trembled, and he quickly jumped right just in time to dodge a spike from below.

Crim flipped dramatically to one side as one of the branches lashed out at him, its thorns nicking his outfit but doing no damage. Spear in tow, he ducked under the next swing and charged boldly towards the tree. He raked his weapon across the branch, scoring a deep gash, and it snapped away as if recoiling in pain. A powerful overhead chop from Orca severed the same branch, which fell to the white ground and vanished in a burst of static.

"Like old times, eh?!" Orca shouted over to Balmung, who took a glancing blow to the shoulder from another branch. The Blademaster slid back a few paces, but steadied himself and launched a wind-based attack; his sword danced from left to right and back again, carving at empty air but causing solid blades of pure wind to shoot out from each swing. The blades connected with the branch, crippling it but causing it to whirl towards the winged swordsman again.

Balmung grit his teeth and parried the blow, digging his feet into the ground to keep steady. "And to think the company wants to sell this!" he answered with a smirk, retaliating against the tree branch.

"This thing must have a core or weak point or something!" Kite made a gesture with one of his blades, sending a lighting strike straight into the heart of the tree. "Try and get under the branches!"

His blast scored a direct hit on the tree, knocking a few of its dark leaves loose. Through the brush, something glowed a bright blue, causing one of the knights to point it out. "It's hiding something! We have to blow away its cover!"

Kite swatted at an errant branch with his swords, opting to keep back and help BT keep up with healing in between lightning spells. He threw regeneration enchantments at Kamui and a pair of knights attempting to flank the tree, gradually healing their wounds and allowing them to get under the angle of the branches. Another group got in close from the left and started hacking away at the thick trunk, their swords carving deep holes that quickly filled back in.

A batch of magic-using knights released another volley of thunder magic, blasting through more of the leafy cover. The thing's health display sat unaffected, a meaningless mishmash of symbols over other symbols, but the falling leaves hinted that it was indeed taking damage.

"Security compromised," said the voice again, as if to accent the point. "Preparing dispersal countermeasure."

One of the trunk's roots suddenly pulled free from the ground and stabbed out at the nearest knight. She barely twisted off to one side, avoiding a direct hit but still being thrown backwards. Still, the knights persisted, slashing and stabbing at the base of the massive tree.

More leaves fell away, finally revealing the blue object concealed within. A small sphere had settled in the tree's branches, resting on the tree but not quite part of it. It pulsed and hummed as the tree moved, seeming to flash in concert with its attacks on the gathered players.

Kamui motioned to the sphere with her weapon "It's some kind of core! Take it down!"

The knights redoubled their efforts, striking again with spells and sword alike. The bolts landed directly on the sphere, leaving no visible impact but doing numbered damage all the same.

The tree's attacks grew less precise, more desperate; it lashed wildly out at the knights, flinging away one or two but missing more often than not. Orca and Crim lopped off the longer-ranged branches, now dropping several in the time it had taken them to kill one or two. Balmung got up alongside Kamui, noting that no further spikes came up from the ground.

An all-too-familiar rumbling came from Kite's arm, and the bracelet flashed and stirred on his wrist. "Its protection is down! Kamui, we can drain it!"

"Do it!" she commanded, motioning to her knights. "Initiate lockdown and fire when Kite does! Hit it with everything you've got!"

Several knights backed away from the fray and sheathed their weapons, joining Kite in pointing one arm towards the tree. Kite's bracelet reacted first, but soon a similar charging glow built around each knight's arm.

A piercing tremble crawled up his arm, telling him the bracelet had locked onto the target. Bracing his hand, he flattened his palm out to the tree and thrust his hand forward. "Now!" he bellowed as he let loose, static racing across the empty field as Data Drain was launched.

Bright purple bursts of energy shot forth from the knights, flying alongside Kite's and striking the creature square in its core. The tree withered and writhed, emitting a grinding shriek that cut across the white void and caused all present to cringe and cover their ears.

"Aaaagh... what the hell?!" Orca grunted, falling to his knees.

"It's dying... keep it up!" Kamui propped herself up on her spear, fighting to stay upright. "We have to break it down!"

The scream stopped, and the effects of Kite's Data Drain and the knights' lockdown attacks both faded from view. An eerie keening came from within the tree, and with a faint, rattling hiss, it began to fade away from the tips of its branches.

"Did it... work?" BT mumbled, still wincing from the scream.

The branches cracked and melted away, dissolving into mist as the tree withered. Deep cracks started to run up its surface, splitting the mighty beast in two, then three, then four. The pieces fell away, revealing that the dungeon they had once covered was no longer there. "Clear out!" said Kamui, pulling her team back as one section of the tree started to topple over.

As the other sections began falling, something within the sphere - now floating unassisted - flashed a deep red. The lights flashed once, then twice, appearing as if eyes to the surviving knights and players.

An eerie crawling sensation snaked across Hiroshi's skin offline, and his character shuddered accordingly. He couldn't shake the feeling that the sphere was watching him somehow. Looking around, he saw Orca and Balmung shiver similarly. "Are you guys okay?"

"Yeah... yeah, I'm fine," Orca said as he caught his breath. "It was strange, I... I felt like it was..."

"Take cover!"

The three hadn't noticed that more cracks began running over the falling chunks of tree. The cracks glowed a bright orange, and the tree sections seemed to pulse. With little further warning they exploded, one after the other, a veritable flood of thorns and spikes spilling outward from each.

Some knights immediately hit the deck, falling face-first onto the ground. Others shielded themselves with weapons or arms, the spikes cutting through cloth and puncturing steel. A few men cried out in pain as fatal hits landed, and through squinted eyes Kite saw two of their bodies disappear. His eyes went wide as he saw a huge wall of spikes racing towards him, and he instinctively covered his face with both arms and brace himself.

"Kite, look out!"

Shuffled footsteps and the hum of energy; Kite opened his eyes and saw BT standing next to him, staff pointed to where the tree had stood. A thick, transparent shield encircled the pair, easily deflecting the wave of thorns. In seconds the assault stopped, leaving the field empty save for the players and a huge pile of razor-sharp wood chips.

Still panting, Kite gave a weary smile to BT. "Thanks."

She smiled back, faintly. "Don't mention it."

"Well... is it dead?" asked one of the knights.

"I think so," said another. "What about that blue thing?"

"It's gone! Was it part of the tree?" a third suggested.

"Is everybody okay?" called Crim, breaking away from his knight group.

Kamui quickly regained her composure, barking out firm orders to the nearest knights. "You two, sign off and check on the others we lost. Make sure nobody was harmed offline. I want a full status report in five minutes."

"The tree," Kite said softly. "There was... something in there. Something alive. It saw me... it saw us."

"You felt it too?" Orca asked, rejoining Kite and BT. Balmung soon followed, and Orca turned to him. "I saw you clench up too. What was that?"

The winged fighter looked atypically lost for words, shaking his head and looking down at his feet. "I... don't know. But I could feel it... somehow. Like it was..."

"Studying us," Orca finished for him, also unusually quiet. He vigorously shook his body out, as if trying to shrug off something unseen. "I don't like it."

Crim wandered back over to the party. "I didn't feel anything," he remarked, giving the three heroes odd looks. "But I saw you all tense up."

"None of this makes any sense," said Kite. "But I think... something in there was using the tree to spread the infection."

"What do you mean?" BT asked, eying the Twin Blade with a puzzled look on her face.

"Before the tree died, the voice said something about a... a dispersal countermeasure, I think." Kite's eyes rolled up, checking text scroll visible only to him. "Yeah, that's what it said."

"What about it?" asked Orca.

"I don't know... but something's not right," said Kite. "We should probably get back to town, and fast."

Balmung folded his arms. "There's also Poet. She said she worked for Cyber Connect. That thing Data Drained her... her player may have been rendered comatose."

"Who knows," Crim muttered, still staring at the spot where the tree had been standing. "But this is far from over."

* * *

Saito barreled into the stairway door shoulder-first and charged down the stairs, Manake scrambling madly to keep up. The door slammed open behind them as Dean gave chase, galloping at full speed and drawing in sharp, rapid breaths. Each flight of stairs was a blur, and Dean almost got within arm's reach as they pulled open the lobby door and ran through. The bag he carried bounced wildly on his wrist, clanging loudly off the railing; he somehow found time to hope the camera hadn't been damaged.

"Move it!" grunted Saito as he rudely shoved an older man aside, dashing across the lobby with startled cries of alarm around him. His heavier cohort lagged, keeping just ahead of the detective but clearly losing steam.

Dean stumbled as he tried to circle around a stray suitcase, nearly losing his footing. "Damn it!" he hissed, wobbling unsteadily as he started to run again. "Sorry! Excuse me folks, sorry!"

Manake used the stumble to put distance between him and the detective. "Split up outside!" he shouted to saito, who nearly ran head-first into the automatic door trying to get through it.

The words were in Japanese, but Dean guessed their gambit as he saw Saito make a mad dash across the street and Manake run right out of view. _Motherfucker!_ he mentally growled, squeezing through the door mere feet behind them. He hesitated for a second, paralyzed by indecision; Saito barely avoided getting clipped by a flatbed truck as he danced across traffic to a cacophany of car horns.

_It'd be suicide to follow him,_ he complained in his thoughts. He glanced right and, seeing Makane disappear around the corner, continued his pursuit of the larger fellow. _Oh no you don't, fat man._

Sweat beaded on his forehead as the humid afternoon air caught up with him, and he felt his lungs start to strain and burn as he chased the stout, casually-dressed goon. Pedestrians who saw the two men coming quickly got to one side of the walk; one woman went for a cell phone and started dialing for the police. Manake tried to skirt around a young girl, who was distracted by her MP3 player, but he ended up knocking her out of the way and nearly tripping over her.

Dean used the error to close the gap, his legs starting to ache. Despite his overall better physique, he was ill prepared for a lengthy sprint. Fortunately for him, Manake was doing no better. The thug started to stagger as he reached the end of the block, and he stopped long enough to notice a flight of stairs leading down to a subway platform. He practically fell down the stairs, with Dean once again right behind him.

Startled commuters backed away from Manake as he landed on level ground, and he let out a cry of pain as his foot twisted at a clearly uncomfortable angle. He limped down the subway corridor, but stopped as Dean finally got a hand on his shirt sleeve.

"C'mon buddy!" Dean began between breaths. "We can settle this nice and..."

He was cut off as Manake thrust an elbow at him, connecting with his chest and stunning him. The larger man followed up with a wild swing from his other hand, and Dean barely had time to backpedal out of the way, causing him to trip and nearly fall. Freed from the detective's grasp, Manake made a hobbled dash down the hall.

Coughing, Dean started after the thug again. Overhead, the lights flickered and dimmed; the already confused people in the subway started to chatter in concern, and their voices added to the din as a distant train roared through one of the tunnels.

Manake limped out of the hallway, pushing past several people and down the next flight of stairs. With Dean still on his heels, he lunged through the crowd gathering around the turnstiles. Grunting loudly, he planted a hand on the nearest one and vaulted over it with surprising speed, drawing further startled cries.

Dean tried to follow, but didn't have the weight to simply charge through the crowd. "Rrgh... someone stop him!" he shouted after Manake, as the people surrounding him watched in shock. He spotted a single metro cop, already heading to intercept Manake, and the detective waved to try to get his attention. "Officer, stop that man!"

The cop saw Dean, but then Manake stopped in his tracks and waved the cop over. He said something Dean couldn't hear over the crowd, and the thug pointed straight at the detective. Dean felt a chill down his spine as the cop nodded and turned towards him, while Manake took a few cautious steps away.

_Motherfucker!_ Dean screamed in his mind. He finally pushed past the crowd and hopped the turnstile, determined not to let Manake get away. He got about five feet before the officer stopped him, and a second cop Dean hadn't noticed soon joined in.

"Sir, I must ask you to stay where you are," ordered the cop in English, sternly but evenly. "That gentleman says you assaulted him."

"Assaul... that man's a criminal!" Dean all but shouted back. "He and some other guys attacked me in a bar last night, and they've been spying on me!"

The cop squinted at him, brow furrowed beneath his cap. "All right, just calm down sir. Mori, get the other one. Something's going on here."

The lights flickered again, but Dean ignored it. Briefly he considered breaking away and chasing after Manake, but he relaxed a bit when the other officer squeezed through a few commuters towards the panting thug. "Listen, my name is Dean Stollis. I used to work with Lieutenant Aniki Masamoto, fourth precinct in Yokohama. I'm here on business. That man is a suspect in an ongoing investigation into Cyber Connect. I was trying to question him, but I did not attack him. I did NOT attack him."

It was half true, but true enough that any facial giveaways were masked by his flushed face and deep breaths. The cop's own expression didn't waver, but he did reach for his radio. He spoke in Japanese; the exact phrase escaped Dean's attempt at translating, but he did recognize a police code for backup. _Good. They can take both of us in, then at least we'll get some answers._

Suddenly, the lights went completely dead. A voice over the loudspeaker, announcing an incoming train, fell silent in midsentence. The lobby was plunged into near darkness, with only scant emergency lighting to distinguish one shadowy commuter from another.

Chaos soon followed; the crowd, already excited due to the commotion, went into a collective roar of panic. Several people started to push this way and that, starting a hasty rush back to the gate and towards the exit. Others immediately ran to one side of the lobby, trying to get clear of the mob. The thug and his pursuer were now the least of the metro cops' problems, and the two frantically called for dispatch over their radios.

Spotting his chance, Manake spun away from his cop and made a break for the nearest flight of stairs. "He's running!" Dean yelled, and broke away from his would-be attendant. "Come on, he's getting away!"

"Hey, wait!" he heard the officer cry out, followed by quick instructions to his comrade. Dean left him behind and followed Manake down to the train platform, stepping carefully through the darkness to avoid slamming into anybody. He half-sprinted towards the railing and nearly hugged it as he hurried down the stairs, Manake's retreating form barely illuminated at the bottom.

Manake threw a look of panic at the detective, and made a dash across the platform. A gaggle of confused passengers could barely get out of the way in time, stumbling as they tried to get away from the large, limping figure.

_No way, he is not going into the goddamn tunnel,_ Dean thought in disbelief.

Manake shuffled up to the edge with no sign of stopping, prepared to prove him wrong. With one last look back, he gave a mighty holler as he leapt off the platform and onto the train tracks. He yelped in pain as he landed, but kept going as he climbed across the nearest set of tracks.

Dean barely saw the far platform in the distance, mostly obscured by shadowy heads and bodies. _Fuck me, this is insane,_ he thought as he braced himself to follow. The clamor of the crowd obscured all other noises, even the sudden roaring of an oncoming train.

The ground rumbling, however, was harder to ignore. Dean stopped short from jumping, sliding to a halt mere inches from the edge with the bag swinging out in front of him. A brief gust of wind shot through the platform, and a wall of gray steel and glass lashed out from the invisible tunnel; the front train car smashed the bag back into the detective's face, busting the camera within into dozens of pieces.

"Aaaaaugh!" Dean cried as he stumbled backwards and fell down, the train passing barely a foot in front of his face. It rumbled and whistled as it sped by, its passengers mere flickers of light before his eyes.

The train passed harmlessly, the station's warning signals cold and silent.

Panting in shock, Dean couldn't will himself to stand. Adrenalin kept his body from feeling any of the ache his mad pursuit had caused but his legs felt limp and useless. From his position, though, he did see Manake on the far set of tracks, similarly stunned by the sudden appearance of the train. Slowly, uneasily, Manake struggled back to his feet, staring hard at Dean as he took a wobbly step back.

A second horn sounded, followed by the screeching of brakes. Both men turned to the sound, and Manake made a sudden scramble for the far platform.

He didn't have time to scream. In the blink of an eye, the second train pulled up to the station platform, and Manake was gone beneath its wheels with a sickening crunch.

Shaking, Dean slowly let his head fall to the subway floor. He covered his face with his hand, shutting out the terrified cries of others around him, shutting out the footsteps of approaching metro police. He heard the rustling of the camera pieces in his bag, the device now useless to him.

_Motherfucker._

* * *

Wheels squeaked as paramedics pushed the gurney out of the office door and into the hallway. Throughout the office, heads turned as they passed, murmuring to themselves as they saw the woman being taken away. Vice President Lee trailed behind them, followed closely by Tokino. "We're still unclear as to what happened, we're looking into it now," said the younger CC officer.

"For the moment, we're assuming it's another Code Six," said Lee grimly. "As before, we'd... appreciate a measure of discretion during treatment."

One the of medics gave him a quick nod. "Yes sir. Access will be limited to essential personnel only."

"I just can't believe it," Lee said in a low, raspy voice. "It's really happening again."

"We're going to have to notify the board, sir," said Tokino. "I know this woman, she worked as one of our auditors. We're not going to be able to keep this quiet for long."

Lee massaged his temples, following the gurney to the elevators. "I know, I know. I need time, though. Put out the standard internal memo for now, and tell my secretary to contact the board members. We'll hold a meeting tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Tokino blinked as Lee pushed the call button. "Shouldn't you call them today?"

Lee faced the elevators, his hands in his pockets. "I've got an important meeting in an hour, it'll have to wait."

"With who?"

"A private matter. I'll explain later."


	18. Steady Decay

**DotHack: Rejoinder**

A DotHack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: Again I must apologize for a delay, though for a different reason this time. On top of a short vacation at lovely (and pricey) Las Vegas, I've been preparing everything on the computer to switch out hard drives, which I'm actually just about to do now. Anyway, stuff gets bigger and deeper, BlackRose has her own fun, and Dean is well on his way to a heroic BSOD. Observe!_

* * *

**Steady Decay**

* * *

Police cars and ambulances swarmed the subway entrance, cops and EMTs working their way through the frightened evacuees clustered on the sidewalk. Although power had been restored, a handful of officers stood out in the intersection with bright orange vests to direct traffic, and the adjoining streets were almost completely shut down by gridlock. TV news vans dotted the area and their crews buzzed like flies around the chaos. One curious camera worked its way towards the thirtyish American accosted by an older police lieutenant, until both men scowled at the cameraman and he moved to safer targets.

"You know the routine," said Masamoto, his face a contorted mix of doubt and bemusement. "But break it down to the bullet points, we have a lot on our plate with just the blackout."

Dean, still shaken from his near-death encounter - to say nothing of the actual death he witnessed - swallowed hard and forced himself to look Masamoto in the eye. "I found out that CC's human resources guy made calls to the Koiwa hotel around the corner. On a hunch, I asked about Manake, the name I gave you. Turns out he was staying there with a few other guys, registered under the name Saito Koda."

The lieutenant nodded. "Do you know who it was you were chasing?"

"Yeah, it was Manake. Luck would have it, those two were a couple of the thugs that attacked me last night. I split the thin guy's lip and Saito had a cut on his."

"So what happened? You said you were going to meet this guy."

Dean fidgeted uncomfortably, hands on his hips. His bag bounced off one of his legs, now only containing his notebook and a few leftover pieces of the camera. "Well, I wasn't sure how to approach him, thought I'd tail him first and see if he was dangerous. But nobody was home, so I talked a maid into letting me in..."

The older cop let out a long, annoyed groan, and gave the detective a disapproving stare. "Dean..."

"...she let me in and I looked around..."

"Dean, that's trespassing. You know this," said Masamoto in a warning tone.

"Masa, they had a gun," Dean hissed, keeping a wary eye out for anybody close enough to hear. "Locked handgun case in one of their suitcases. They had a map which marked, among other things, my apartment and what appeared to be lookout posts around it. They are spying on me, and they are armed. I took pictures, but the train caught my camera and smashed it."

Masamoto froze at the mention of the gun. He glanced around furtively, speaking quietly. "Okay. The hotel room is a part of the crime scene, and we did send officers to investigate. If they turn up anything, we will know about it. But Dean, I need hard evidence. You're not stupid, you know how bad this looks for you."

"Yeah, I know," said Dean bitterly through a clenched jaw. "It looks like I stalked a guy because he jumped me in a bar. I broke into his apartment, went through his belongings, chased him into a subway and hopped a turnstile in the process, and he is now hamburger thanks to me."

"I know you wouldn't risk this if you didn't think there was something there," Aniki said calmly. "But we do have a problem. A man is dead and you have nothing to show for it. Nothing but vague accusations of being followed and one man's suspicion of conspiracy."

"Not quite," Dean quickly replied. "At the station, Manake and I were detained by Tokyo metro. When the lights went out, he ran from them, not me."

"Conjecture doesn't hold, we don't know why he was running," was Aniki's answer.

Dean snapped a finger and pointed at Masamoto. "Exactly, we don't know. I didn't make him run from the metro, and I damn sure didn't make him take an Errol Flynn leap across the tracks on a sprained ankle. And as long as we don't know, I'm only a suspect."

"Be that as it may..."

"Lieutenant!" called a younger officer, approaching the pair on the sidewalk.

"Excuse me," Masamoto said to Dean, waving the officer over. In Japanese, the lieutenant asked, "What is it, Koji?"

Dean stepped back as the two conversed in their language. He caught a few bits, select phrases, a couple words he assumed were cop lingo. He watched Masamoto grow more animated, speaking louder and angrier, and the uniformed fellow could only shrug in response.

"What do you mean, 'it was empty'?!" the lieutenant suddenly belted out in English, startling both Koji and Dean. The young officer haltingly repeated himself, and Masamoto gave Dean a telling shake of the head.

_I don't like where this is going,_ thought Dean, a chill crawling up his spine as he leapt to a conclusion. _Saito ran off, but he has friends. Probably cleared the room during the chaos. And it figures the train broke my camera and cracked the memory chip. Damn it!_

Something buzzed in his pocket, a forgotten cell phone burrowing through his growing frustration. He didn't even remember stopping to charge it when he went looking for directions to the hotel. He dug it out and flipped it open. "This is Dean," he said sharply.

"Dean, it's Frank Moritsu. I need to talk to you."

The voice of Lios sounded harried, cracked; far from his usual curt, composed self. "Little busy, Frank," was Dean's brusque reply. "What's going on?"

"Something happened, something big. We lost somebody, but it was staged." The words poured from the phone, unexplained thoughts and unconnected fragments. "One of our auditors, but they're mistaken. It can't be her."

"Frank, Frank, slow down," Dean urged through the phone, now nervous for a new and exotic reason. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Francis gulped down air. "Sorry. The tree went active, attacked our administrators. It data drained Poet in the process, and I just found out that an internal auditor was found unconscious at her desk. She worked for one of the board members, and apparently Poet identified herself just before the attack."

Dean let out a low, rumbling 'hmm'. Already rattled, he sounded unusually calm as he replied. "You said it was staged?"

"They just carted her out of here, but nobody called the police. I don't believe for a minute that she played The World, and I'm certain she never knew Albireo personally."

The detective frowned into his phone, stepping away from the street as a cop on a motorcycle weaved through the mess of cars. "I've got enough things I can't prove, but if I can get to her office I can check it out. If you're right, somebody must've left something behind."

"There won't be a chance tonight," said Frank. "Security will be extra tight following the blackout, and we think that's related to this too. In fact, there's something else you need to know. There was an asset selloff announced today. Our stock was about to take a temporary hit, and Lee liquidated a third of his portfolio just beforehand. The market went down with that power outage, and it looks like it wiped out evidence of his transaction."

Dean pulled the phone back from his ear, giving a puzzled stare into the screen. "Hang on. You're saying Lee sold a portion of his stake in the company?"

"Yes, and I don't think he's the only one. Some of the trades today were lost in the blackout; they went through, but there are no records."

_And now we're talking insider trading. Swell._ "How'd you find out?" he asked, taking note of Masamoto walking back over to him.

"I overheard him talking with his broker. The media suspected we might cull a few divisions, but they didn't know for..."

Masamoto folded his arms, waiting impatiently for Dean to finish. Dean gulped around a growing lump in his threat and shifted his weight. "Kind of got company, Frank. Listen, email me the details, I'll look them over later. We'll see about checking out her office, too."

"Yes... good idea." Lios paused, and Dean heard him pull air sharply through his nose. "The best I can do is get you in tomorrow night."

"It'll have to do. Send me what you got. I'll see you later." Dean hung up and turned back to Masamoto, clearing his throat. "Sorry, Masa. Let me guess, nothing there."

Masamoto stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I can get you out of the turnstile jump, and pending the metro's testimony I doubt we need to bring you in. But we've got nothing. Either you dreamed it up or these... whoever you're after, they're good at covering tracks in a hurry."

_Interesting choice of words,_ a tasteless part of him thought. He asked, "So what do we do?"

"I need something, Dean," said Masamoto with a pleading shrug. "Help me out here."

Dean stammered, fumbled, the stress and fatigue finally catching up with him. Too many angles, too many thoughts: the convenient power outage; Frank's accusation; a new coma victim; the thugs apparently watching him; a rogue AI; The World growing corrupted again; a missing employee seemingly at the center of it all.  
His mind reached for evidence, but grasped only its own doubts.

The detective let his mouth hang open, gaping like a fish as he struggled for a sentence. "Th... it's just... I mean, I..."

The lieutenant gave a deep sigh, shaking his head once more in disapproval. "I'm sorry, Dean. I'm going to have to have you followed."

"Followed?! But..." Dean started, his face turning red.

He stopped as the lieutenant got in close, hissing almost too quietly to hear. "This is for your own good. Either you're right and someone's after you, or you're wrong and you just chased some thug for nothing. Either way, you're in trouble and we're not far behind. There's no good option here."

In the back of his mind, Dean knew Aniki was right, but his frustration kept growing and wouldn't let go so easily. _Goddamnit Mas, I'm not crazy. You know I'm not!_ he wanted to cry out, but something instinctive stopped him. He wanted to bring up Frank's information, but without the details the story would ring as empty as the hotel room Dean had snuck into.

"You were in my shoes not too long ago," Masamoto added, the soft-spoken plea snaking through Dean's guard and hitting home. "I believe you. I do. But we all went through Pluto Kiss, and after today it won't take much for the media to start putting two and two together. If this is really something else, you know what we need."

His words rang just true enough to get Dean to relax, and the detective quietly mulled over the idea of a police tail. _Frank better have a legit way of getting me inside, or this is going off the rails in a hurry._ The optimist in him chimed in, repeling the sudden difficulty with an unexpected bonus. _On the other hand, the closer the police watch me, the harder it gets for anybody else to do the same._

_Damn it. Too much information, not enough proof. I need to think._

"All right," Dean said, giving Masamoto an even nod and sighing in surrender; if nothing else, to help the day end quicker. "All right, do what you gotta do."

Masamoto nodded slowly in return. "You do the same."

* * *

"Come on, hurry up already!" she growled at the black loading screen, marked only by the animated logo for The World.

It had taken an iron will for Akira to ignore the email noise from her computer, having promised to put in more studying time today. Nose-deep in textbooks and notes, the chime had thrown a wrench into her memory. With every other problem and formula her thoughts had drifted to the game, to Kite, to what was going on. Unsolved variables had jumped around in her mind, forced aside by guesses as to the email's contents.

Her guesses had quickly turned to worries, but she forged ahead through the math book, and all but threw it aside when she finished. Something ugly settled in the pit of her stomach as she opened the email, and her fears were confirmed: something was happening in the protected field, and Kite had asked her to help.

Not soon enough, the endless night of Lambda server's root town appeared around her. Carmina Gadelica's countless city blocks stretched for miles, closing in the main strip and dotting the horizon across a massive, pristine lake. The night was very much alive, with windows lit and streets packed with players and characters alike.

Alive, but fearful. BlackRose saw a shopkeeper NPC speaking to a small crowd of players, apparently reciting some canned message. It got clearer as she neared, and the feeling in her gut grew worse. "At this time, we can't say for sure when Sigma server will reopen. The root town is safe, but all fields are locked until further notice."

"What's going on?" BlackRose asked the nearest player, a male Blademaster in golden armor.

"The word is there's some kind of infection," he answered with clear uncertainty. "I just got here myself, but it sounds like Sigma's being locked down."

_No... that's where Kite and the others are! Damn it, I'm too late!_ She sped off for the spinning Chaos Gate, quickly flipping through the menu to jump to Fort Ouph.

Suddenly a thunderous explosion ripped across the sky, and her screen shook and unfocused as she was thrown violently away from the gate. The ground pitched and trembled, and players across the broadway fought to stay standing, their confused cries lost in the wake of the blast.

Though startled, Akira was quick to recover. Ears ringing, she shook off the vertigo as her vision cleared, and she looked up to see what had caused the noise. The root town seemed normal, the city and skyline still intact. She looked around for the telltale bit of corrupted ground, flashes of text, missing skybox, but to her relief everything had stayed the same.

Until a cry of sheer terror pierced the air.

"The hell is that thing?! How did it get here?!" someone cried from out of Akira's draw distance.

"Someone call a GM, it's some kind of monster!" another called.

"Screw that, we can take it!"

Concern over the shouts overtook her concern for Kite, and she stepped away from the gate to get a closer look. Immediately, she wished it had only been the graphics.

The monster stood a solid ten feet high, almost pitch black save for the light reflecting off its scaly body. A snakelike lower half connected to a semi-humanoid torso, only it had no actual head, nor were its arms where they should be. Instead, close to a dozen bony arms jutted out at seemingly random spots, each almost the length of even the tallest player the monster was fighting. The only spot of color came from the amber nails on its many hands, carving streaks of dull yellow as it viciously swiped at anything nearby.

Though the creature wasn't inherently scary to BlackRose, the fact that it was here most certainly was. She found she could target the monster, and before she could loose a spell or move to attack she saw a crafty Long Arm sever one of its hands. She gasped as the hand quickly grew back, and the thing moved with surprising speed as it lunged at the player, its arms a flurry of black and yellow.

The spearman was thrown aside effortlessly, practically disemboweled in everything except appearance. Several players backed off, and suddenly it whirled to 'face' BlackRose.

_Something must have happened at the field,_ she quickly realized. She shifted her feet apart to steady herself, hefting her weapon to strike. _It's like last... no, this is even worse! What the hell happened there?!_

It coiled its body and abruptly charged her, but she was ready to sidestep in time. It sailed by, scoring only a glancing scratch on one of her legs. She dashed out of its striking range and landed a longwise blow on its tail. It healed almost as soon as the damage was done, and she brought the blade up in time to parry a backhanded strike.

She wrung the hilt in her hands, watching as the nightmarish creature slithered around towards her again. Its arms flailed madly, a wall of clawing amber against black hands. With a mighty heave she leaped close to a dozen feet into the air, striking at its yellowish weapons. Her blade slipped into a narrow gap and raked fiercely against one arm, nicking two others as she pulled it back and fell down to earth. It closed in again, but she batted it back with another swing.

Her sword bit into the pitch-black 'flesh', cleaving a few fingers from the nearest hands and causing the monster to recoil. The severed digits quickly faded, replaced by fresh copies with the crackle of electricity. It flexed the new fingers, testing them, before resuming its advance. A blast of lightning from a nearby Wavemaster rang out and struck somewhere on the body; the bolt stunned it, but bought only a few seconds as it tried to pick a target.

"Damn it!" BlackRose readied her weapon and faced the monster again, panic beginning to taint her anger. _What do I do now? I'd need Kite for this!_

At any other time, she would have felt more self-conscious for the thought. As the creature curled up again, however, pride was the first thing to go. She tumbled away as it sprang at her, avoiding a narrow slice by two separate hands, and she quickly snapped off a fire spell as she came to a stop. Flickering fireballs danced around the creature, then sailed in to strike its body. She saw the damage reflected in numbers, but it didn't even faze the creature.

Running had crossed her mind, but she saw a few other players limping away from the battle and was determined to at least keep the thing still until an administrator could respond. _Come on, think! There's gotta be some way._

She took quick stock of her surroundings, noting the bridge behind her stretching out from the broadway. An idea quickly formed, and, seeing that the bridge was almost free of players, she leapt clear of the monster and relaxed her weapon to move quicker. _Worth a try!_

The monster churned and snapped its body around, smashing stone as its arms came into striking range of the ground. Using two of them to drag itself forward, it swept its tail back and forth, likely to keep any other players from getting too close. A nearby axeman did try to chop at the tail, and landed a hard blow that severed the tip, but it seemed to ignore the damage as it pursued BlackRose.

_Gotta get its back to a railing,_ she thought as she circled to one side, trying to get it to turn with her. It lashed at her with an arm, but she batted it away and held her ground. Another arm shot out, but she just as quickly knocked it back.

The thing's powerful tail pushed its body around, keeping even with BlackRose as she put her own back against the side of the bridge. Several of its arms cocked back, preparing to strike all at once; too many to block.

Giving her a perfect shot at its torso.

Like a woman possessed she bellowed a war cry and charged in, thrusting her sword deep into its belly. Her blade pulled out to one side with a disgusting sucking sound, and though it started to heal she was quick to swing again. She carved out another chunk, effectively gutting the creature. Its black body made it hard to see the wound closing, but she knew she had to act fast.

It convulsed in pain and let out a high-pitched keening, but the Heavy Blade was able to keep her weapon level with the shrinking gash. Sliding in even closer she struck again, and again, carving further through its body. Somehow, Akira felt a strain in her muscles, the stinging of the weapon's grip against her palms; she wrote it off as a trick of her mind as she pressed the attack. Panic had pulled her from fear to anger, she wasn't about to let her senses pull it back.

One arm managed to knock her back, and more soon followed, but with one powerful swipe she severed three of its arms. Before it could regenerate she brought the weapon back around for another mighty chop, leaping in close. The blow cleaved back into its torso, adding to the wound and nearly severing the snake from the body. BlackRose finally lunged in close for one more strike, practically face-to-face with the monster's stomach.

It landed perfectly, splitting the torso in two. The monster's upper half practically fell on her, and though she didn't feel its weight, the rose-themed warrior did buckle from impact.

_Now!_ Growling, she rammed her shoulder into the upper body and charged to the far side of the bridge. It screeched and clawed, raking furiously but fruitlessly at its opponent. The snake part fell away and began to fade, and though the upper body struggled mightily, the Heavy Blade was able to keep it aloft and over her shoulder. Using the railing as leverage, she pitched forward and heaved its body over the side.

Even as it fell it regenerated, and the twitching serpentine half faded to dust. However, the writhing living half hit the water with a weighty splash, and it quickly sank and disappeared from sight.

_It worked. Ha, it worked!_

"BlackRose!"

Footsteps, a voice she recognized. She staggered away from the railing, panting online and offline, her blade still tightly clutched in her hands. Smiling and sweating, she turned to face her astonished, blue-haired hero. "What took you so long?"

* * *

_From: L._  
_To: I., C._

_The blades are gardening, ensure they only find thorns._  
_The spade is digging, see that it only finds rocks._  
_Rehearsal is complete. Our audience will have had their fill of poetry._  
_When they leave, it ends._


	19. Encroachment

**DotHack: Rejoinder**

A DotHack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: Hard drive migration complete, with more than a few sizable setbacks, so once again I must apologize for the delay. With any luck, this will be the last sizable one. Anyhoo, we're back on track, with a bit more angst, a few more threats, and some friendly banter. Apologies if Balmung and Kamui sound a bit rushed, I'm still figuring out those two, trying to find a setting somewhere between 'bickering non-couple' and 'playful not-yet-couple'. Ain't easy. Anyhoo, the show continues!  
_

* * *

**Encroachment**

* * *

Traffic had backed up from the blackout, and it was still chugging along by the time Dean finally pulled away from the Koiwa parking lot. A twenty-minute drive turned into close to an hour just to get out of Edogawa-ku, leaving the detective to drum his thumbs on the wheel in annoyance.

The clock rolled to 4:30 as he got on the expressway home, and that's when he saw them: two black sedans with twinted windows, keeping a comfortable distance but easily sticking out in the pack of cars behind him.

_Is that my tail? No, wait. Something ain't right._ Exit signs passed over his windshield, and on a hunch he flipped the turn signal to take the nearest off-ramp. Sure enough, the cars parroted his movement, pulling right off the expressway. _It's too soon, and they wouldn't send two cars after me, especially if they already have their hands full. I've got someone else's attention._

It was by no means his first time being followed, and he was too exhausted to try and lose them, but apprehension and dread set in all the same. He shivered faintly as he turned onto a clear two-lane road, giving the two pursuers more than enough room to block him. Sure enough, one of the cars suddenly lurched to the other lane and sped up to pass him, and Dean was forced to brake as the sedan pulled pointedly out in front of him.

A horn blasted from behind, startling Dean; he glanced in the mirror and saw the second car cut another driver off, practically riding Dean's rear fender. Turn signals lit up on both cars as they neared an intersection, and the message got through loud and clear.

_God damnit, NOW what?_ he thought as he pulled into a turn lane, the black cars matching his movements and guiding him over.

He was led around the corner and into the parking lot of a nearby diner, which held plenty of room for the three cars. Dean briefly pondered flooring it as the lead car turned in, but traffic down the street ensured nothing short of driving on the sidewalk would have worked. The cars stopped, and Dean along with them.

Shifting to park, Dean unbuckled himself and popped the door open, stepping out into the warm afternoon sun. Two men in suits joined him, one from the passenger side of each car, neither looking friendly. They made their way to Dean but said nothing, their eyes predictably hidden behind sunglasses.

"Who are you guys and what's going on?" asked Dean, wondering if he wouldn't have been better taking his chances with the sidewalk.

"Please hold your arms out to your sides, Mr. Stollis," one of the goons flatly instructed in clear English. Footsteps from behind Dean suggested that by 'please' the suit meant 'now'.

The detective held his protest, giving instead a defeated sigh and muttering "Fine," under his breath. He held his arms out as ordered, and rolled his eyes indignantly as he was patted down. The suit in front of him then turned on an electric wand, which he passed over Dean's chest; the detective guessed they were searching for weapons or recording equipment.

"That thing gives me cancer, I'm suing your ass," Dean grumbled.

"Be still," was the goon's only reply. A green light on the device kept solid as it passed, and the suit shrugged and switched it off. He nodded to the car behind him, and the front driver and passenger doors opened in response.

The driver was too young to be anybody but just another guard, but Dean recognized the other, older man. And from the cold stare in his bespectacled eyes, it was clear the suit recognized Dean as well.

"Mr. Stollis," said Wade Lee, his accent thick. He squeezed between the parked cars to get to Dean, and straightened out his suit jacket. "Forgive my rudeness, but we must talk."

"Mr. Vice President," was Dean's quiet greeting. "To what do I owe the abruptness?"

"You've been poking around headquarters," said Lee, not a trace of humor on his face. "Asking a lot of pointed questions, off chasing Moritsu's theory, correct?"

"What if I am?"

Lee slid his hands into the pockets of his jacket, the movement slow and deliberate. "It hardly reflects well on our company that one of our own security personnel - an administrator, no less - sought outside help."

"A lot of things don't reflect well on your company," Dean replied flippantly, his flat tone belying a latent hostility. Staring back at Lee, he then added, "Look, it's been a long day, so what do you want?"

"I want you to back off," Wade replied instantly. "This is an internal matter. I simply cannot have some American would-be detective snooping around as he pleases."

The 'would-be' bit was a blow to Dean's pride, but he shrugged it off. "Lee, you know something's happening, something you don't understand and can't control..."

The vice president scowled at him, deep wrinkles forming in his bare forehead. "And what do you know, Mr. Stollis? You and Moritsu talk of a conspiracy you can't prove, pointing fingers at everyone you can worm your way into a meeting with. But what do you have? Have you found any proof, a single shred of evidence?!"

One of the suits muttered something to Lee, motioning self-consciously to a few diner patrons milling around the entrance, who were looking over at the group strangely. Lee gave them a brief glance before lowering his voice. "I'm not blind, nor ignorant. I know very well what the previous occupant of my position was involved in. And I am not discounting the possibility that more within the company want to see it fall. But if you know the history of The World, then who are you to say it's not happening all over again?"

"I'm not the one jumping to conclusions," Dean shot back. "One of your best coders up and left with no explanation, and if anybody had advance warning of something like this, it'd be him. I'd call that a pretty damn big coincidence."

Lee folded his arms and grumbled, turning his back to Dean. "If you know anything about him, you know he was driven. What would it take to scare away someone like that? I've wondered this myself, and I don't have an answer."

The words 'scare away' sounded a bell in the back of Dean's mind, but he didn't know why. He was more focused on biting his tongue, trying not to bring up Lios' accusation. "That's what I'm trying to find out," he said instead. "And it'd be a lot easier if somebody could just tell me where he went, but nobody seems to know. No contact information, no forwarding address, just up and gone."

"And that's why I'm telling you to leave this be," Lee said coldly. "Watarai is gone without explanation, some... thing is destroying our servers from the inside out, nobody has any idea what to do about this, the president is out of the country, and at least three board members hate me solely because of where I'm from. And now we have you, Mr. Stollis, and as much as your reputation precedes you, you add yet another source of tension."

Dean had no reply, wilting slightly under Lee's hostile stare. Lee's tone, posture, and unflinching stare suggested he was more than used to dealing with difficult people, and the presence of his guards wasn't helping Dean's resolve.

Lee sighed, then took a step closer to Dean, getting right in the detective's face. "I will say this once, Mr. Stollis. You're not helping. I'm trying to keep this company from tearing itself apart, and you are the last thing I or this company needs. Do we understand each other?"

Dean swallowed, irritating a growing lump in his throat. His trump cards were all wild, and he had nothing else to play. "Yeah," he muttered. "Yeah, we do."

"It would be unwise to show your face around headquarters for a while," said Lee slowly, withdrawing with his guards. "Perhaps you should instead spend your time on the reason you came back."

A sudden breeze rustled a nearby tree, pronouncing the silence as Dean pondered the meaning of Lee's words. The meaning hit him hard after a beat, and he took a step back in surprise. "Wait," he said with narrowed eyes, "you don't mean..."

"You would be surprised the things you can find out just by asking around, Mr Stollis," Lee said over him. Motioning to his guards, he headed back towards the rear car's passenger side.  
"She will not wait for you."

The sentence should have sent up warnings, alarms, red flags; instead the words blindsided him, hit right where he wasn't looking. He didn't know how Lee knew, and he didn't care. As the suited crew departed, Dean dumbly slipped back into his car, thoughts of Miku pulling him away from the task at hand.

Unbidden, the card from his door came back to him: she's cheating on you. _No she's not,_ he thought back, but the thought didn't go away as quickly this time. The only thing that replaced it was the shadowy image of a frightened thug, mere seconds before a train flattened him. Masamoto's rebuke soon followed, which in turn was overlapped by other images, sounds: police sirens, gunfire, swords and weapons clashing, screams, a deafening electronic shriek, the frightened face of a kidnapped friend, the cocky smirk of an old foe.

The memories kept coming, and he could barely focus enough to turn the key and start the car again. _It's not my fault,_ he assured himself. _I know it's not my fault. I can fix this. I can figure this out._

More memories hit him: his complicity in a crime long ago, his badge and gun taken from him, his head low as he walked the balcony to his cell amidst a chorus of jeering prisoners. His application for a detective's license, his acceptance of an illegal job to steal from the company he was now trying to help, his endangering a boy he now called a friend; the images kept coming, the worry wouldn't stop, the guilt wouldn't let up.

He sniffed, swallowed, and shifted to drive. Still, thoughts of Miku poked through the morass in his mind; thoughts and fears. _I have to fix this. I have to figure this out._

* * *

"BlackRose!" Kite called, racing over to her side. "Are you okay? What was that thing?!"

Several others gathered around the railing where BlackRose had pushed the creature over, with a few looking in awe at the Heavy Blade herself. Her composure cracked and her smile faded. "It was a Data Bug!" she exclaimed. "I got your message and was on my way when suddenly it appeared here, just dropped right into town! What the hell's going on?"

"The tree came alive and started attacking people," said Kite, still watching BlackRose with a look of concern. "It data drained Poet, and attacked us and the Cobalt Knights. We barely managed to stop it. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," she nodded haltingly, "yeah, I'm okay. But if you stopped it, then why is this happening? It's just like the Wave, it keeps getting worse!"

Kite shook his head, sea-green bangs dancing over his eyes. "I don't know. When we destroyed the tree, something came out, some... something alive, I think. It had eyes, but it vanished before we could do anything else."

The Heavy Blade peered at him, puzzled. "You mean the tree was protecting something?"

"Yeah. I think you were more right than you know earlier, when you talked about AI. That may be what was inside the tree all this time."

"I thought Poet was some kind of AI," she said. "But I guess it's much bigger than that now. So what can we do? If they're appearing in root towns, then..."

"Kamui and the others are over in Sigma server, the root town's still open. Come on, we'll see what they say."

Together the two started back down the bridge, across the shimmering lake. Nearby a few Wavemasters patched up the wounded, and all around were the confused murmurs of other players; wondering why the town was suddenly flagged as a combat zone, wondering why they could suddenly use weapons and skills. Their words put a pall over the town, such that nobody noticed the background music had stopped, replaced only with an eerie silence.

The two blades passed a pair of warriors, worrying in hushed tones whether it was a viral attack, as before. BlackRose gave Kite a knowing look, and he returned it with a slow nod.

"We'll beat this," he said in a reassuring voice, seeking her free hand and giving it a firm squeeze.

She squeezed back and managed to smile, but there was an empty cast to her face, her doubts practically written across her forehead. Somehow, in spite of having felled a data bug singlehandedly, the Heavy Blade had never seemed to small to her red-capped companion.

"So, how did your studying go?" Kite asked, trying to change the subject.

"Okay, I guess," she answered. "I was a little distracted, but I think I've got a handle on most of it."

"Do you feel ready for tomorrow?"

"No," she said with a lame chuckle but an convincing smile. "No, not in the least. But I'll manage."

He shot a smiling emote her way, sharing her laugh. "I think that's normal. You'll do just fine, though."

"Yeah... yeah, it'll be fine," she said slowly. There was a faint stutter on 'fine'; the text translator missed it, but Hiroshi's ears picked it up clear as day. Despite her smile, there was still a guarded quality to her face. Something else was bothering her, and he had a hunch what it was.

The giveaway came with her next line. "If I don't... you know... if I don't make it to this school..."

He knew then what she was about to say. They'd talked about it before: her destination after high school. She wanted a local college; among other things, it was in town, a mere train ride away. There were lots of reasons, and he was one of them.

The thought brought a flush to his ears, but he kept his cool. Modesty aside, he had his own doubts about her alternate college, about what would happen if they were separated. Ever his constant companion, doubt was no help here; he stowed it and released her hand, and clasped her shoulder instead. She stopped in her tracks as he turned to face her directly. "Hey," he said quietly.

She looked at him, nonplussed. "Yeah?" she said back, almost a whisper.

In spite of his own worries, in defiance of their surroundings, he gave her an earnest smile. "Just do your best. We'll take care of everything else later. Whatever happens, we'll deal with it. Okay?"

BlackRose said nothing right away, but Kite didn't budge. Slowly it chipped away at her worries, a digital smile backed by a real voice; doubt remained, and she knew it plagued him too. Still, his words sank into her, leaving their mark. Belief, absent mere minutes ago, began to fill in the cracks, and she finally found the nerve to answer.

"Yeah... I will." She met his eyes, standing up straighter and with confidence. Quickly, intentionally, she added, "We will."

As they started towards the gate again, Akira swore her character's steps had become lighter, that she felt less weight on her own shoulders. She smiled into her visor, and guided her character to tighten her hold on her partner as they walked side-by-side.

* * *

"I just got word from Lios," said Kamui to the two Descendants of Fianna. "We're shutting the game down for the night, and until we can guarantee no further attacks, Lambda and Sigma servers will be inaccessible. Half the admins will be working through the night trying to lock the infection down."

"Great," Orca replied half-heartedly. "What do we do in the meantime?"

Kamui glanced at him. "There's not much we can do. If that was a vagrant AI, then we need to find out either how it was made, or what it's trying to do."

Balmung threw a look across the parapets of the mountain fort, waving over at Kite and BlackRose as they appeared near the spinning gate. "What we know of the Epitaph stops with the Wave. This creature can't be a part of it, unless we've missed something."

"But if it's using data from Fragment," began Orca, nodding to the newcomers. "If it's creating hacked monsters and it's capable of data draining people..."

"You're talking about the eyes?" Kite asked as he joined the conversation.

His winged partner gave him a grim nod. "Yes... we don't yet know what to make of it. As Orca suggests, it may be a new creature, but it's using old tools. But what is it using them for? And why did it seem so interested in us?"

"I saw you freeze up and shudder when it appeared. What happened?" Kamui asked Balmung, confused. She then looked at Orca, then at Kite. "It happened to you two as well, didn't it?"

"I still don't know," Kite said, his voice wavering a bit as he remembered the feel of the monster's attention, his senses up in arms as the thing's gaze merely fell on him. "I felt fine afterwards, but when it was looking at me, I... I felt this odd pressure all around me. Crawling... confining, like I couldn't move."

"It was studying us," said Orca in a low voice.

"Why us, though?" Balmung asked. "And why just us?"

Kamui pursed her lips, quickly considering possibilities. "It may have been interested in players who've dealt with extraordinary events. Players who've been able to defeat hacked monsters, or were involved in some ongoing problem."

"Hackers," BlackRose suggested.

"Hackers and heroes," Kamui corrected. "Anything that might be able to defend itself."

"Do we know anything?" asked the Twin Blade.

The Long Arm sighed, tapping her spear to the ground. "Not much, and even our guesses lack substance. But your friends may have a point. Even with the Wave gone, it's not like there aren't still oddities lurking within The World."

BlackRose caught on quickly, paying close attention. "So, if a new AI is being created here, and it could do what Aura did..."

"I don't think we have to speculate," Balmung cut her off. His cool, collected voice contrasted with the faint glimmer of concern in his steely eyes. "We all know how bad things got before. For now I agree with Kamui. Let's just try to find out what this thing is, what it's after, and what we can do about it."

"Where do we start?" asked his painted partner. Orca twisted his head this way and that, looking around for any other players. "Isn't the server shutting down?"

"For tonight," said Kamui. She let out a weary groan, then added, "We'll see what we can find out overnight."

Kite cocked his head at her, curious. "Are you okay?"

She dismissed him with a brief wave. "It's fine, I... it's already been a long day. I just need some coffee."

"And here I thought you hated coffee," Balmung abruptly said in a sotto voice, the text nonetheless clear as day. Kamui suddenly scowled at him, though there was an ease in her posture that suggested she wasn't that mad. Still, he held up his hands in surprise, his eyes uncharacteristically wide. "Well, you did say so."

"I hated that place's coffee," Kamui replied tersely. "They over-roast it, and they put something in it that tastes like oil. I don't know how you stand it."

"It's an acquired taste," Balmung defended himself. "I have a lot of acquired tastes."

"So I recall," Kamui smirked.

Kite, Orca, and BlackRose blinked, heads twitching back and forth between the two. Kite was the first to voice his curiosity. "Is there something going on here I don't know about?"

Kamui stopped short, her mouth open. She closed her jaw, shook her head, and sighed as she turned to Kite. "It's a long story."

Kite and BlackRose looked at each other, and merely shrugged. A private message suddenly popped in front of Kite's eyes, from the brown-haired Blademaster to his right.

_From: Orca_

_No, it's not that long. She's in her late 20's and he just turned 20. Take a wild guess how their first offline meeting went._

Beyond curious, Kite fired a quick reply. _They met offline? When? What for?_

If Orca hadn't been grinning, Kite could have sworn he was from the reply. _Now THAT is a long story._


	20. Obsession

**DotHack: Rejoinder**

A DotHack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: Well, guess there's no denying it. Writing is just plain harder than it used to be, thanks to a combination of little free time, work-related stress, and a mind easily distracted by video games, shiny objects, and even itself. Oh well. Also, I'm going by what the wiki says for Balmung's age, putting him at 18 "at first appearance," presumably just prior to Sign; insofar as canon is concerned, Rejoinder takes place a little over a year and a half since the end of Quarantine. If anybody has more accurate information, please let me know. Thanks for putting up with me, folks ^^;_

* * *

**Obsession**

* * *

From: Lios

To: Stolls

Here's what we know for certain happened:

- At about 3pm, the tree at Sigma: Chosen Forbidden Remnant became active and engaged players and administrators within range. It it is known that the character Poet suffered what appeared to be a data drain.

- Sometime during the battle, senior auditor Chise Koriyama was found unconscious at her computer. She was discreetly taken away by paramedics from a private hospital.

- The blackout occurred at roughly 3:15 and lasted for five minutes, affecting ten city blocks. Data loss for the company was negligible, but records of trades on the Nikkei within the last hour or so were lost. Most were recovered in the interim before the market closed.

For obvious reasons I can't repeat what I said over the phone. Suffice it to say what I told you happened just before the blackout. I suspect its records were not among those recovered.

Koriyama reported directly to Kei Akanose, a member of the board and one of the more vocal opponents to the sale of The World. However, there are two things to consider: Chise worked in another department and didn't appear to have any professional contact with Watarai; and she didn't appear to have any interest in The World itself, certainly not in playing it, and thus wouldn't know of Albireo either. The office was locked up and no police were called.

I hope you understand what I'm asking of you. There's a parking garage five minutes south of the main CC tower. Be there at 8pm tomorrow night.

* * *

"Guilty."

Slowly, groggily, the detective pushed off the couch. The room dipped and swam, its details hidden in a murky haze. He knew where he was, but none of it seemed familiar to him. _Who... who's there?_ Somehow his own thoughts seemed to echo across the room, and he staggered towards the glow of the computer.

His foot rolled something away, and it clinked against the leg of a coffee table. He looked down, seeing an empty beer bottle. _What the... when was I drinking?_

As if to accent the thought, he wobbled unsteadily, still making his way to the glowing screen. _No, I'm still lucid. Tipsy, maybe. But when did I even get beer? How long was I asleep?_

He looked for the clock on the computer, but it wouldn't pop up. The text of an email stood prominently over the screen, covering up the desktop. Dean reached for the mouse and keyboard, but couldn't find them. He blinked, trying to clear his vision as he read the text; something was wrong, he knew this much, but his mind couldn't quite pin down what.

_It's never going to let you go._

"Who sent this?" Dean wondered, unaware he'd spoken aloud. "This wasn't what I read..."

Somehow he felt compelled to turn around, and he was drawn back across the room. The shape of the room seemed to shift, the kitchen counter becoming more definite amidst the haze. _I can fix this,_ said an echoing thought in his voice. _I can figure this out._

A phone rang, an old rotary he didn't remember owning. He stared blankly through a sudden sheet of reinforced glass as he reached for the receiver. A woman's voice drifted through the earpiece, a strained voice he recognized but couldn't place.

"I'm glad you understand," she said quietly, her words almost cracking.

"I'm sorry," Dean murmured. He didn't know why. "Space is... the least I owe you."

"Just... get better, okay?"

"Sure. And Claire... thanks," he smiled weakly.

"For what?"

"For not hating me."

She tried to smile back. He couldn't see her, but he knew she was trying. "Take care of yourself, Dean."

The line went dead. He turned and looked at the phone, but it was gone; his hand now held nothing. A simple white business card lay flat on the counter, and he automatically picked it up.

_She abandoned you,_ the card read.

"No... no, that's not true. I... I let her go. She didn't want to wait for me, and I didn't want her to."

The words twisted before his eyes; he blinked and the card had a reply. _And you abandoned her._

"No, I... what? You don't understand, I..." he started, but the card grew indistinct. As he wondered if the card meant two different people, it suddenly dawned on him that the card was gone. His breath grew shallow, his hands clenched, his head fell. "It was my fault."

He pushed himself back to his feet, a muted chorus of background whispers coming from his brain, but just barely reaching his ears. He spun and whirled, looking for something distinct, concrete, anything he could put his hands on to stabilize himself. Nothing seemed to register anymore; his desk, his couch, the counter at his back just moments ago, nothing. Slowly the room faded from sight, a single spot of light left. Sniffles and whimpers came from seemingly nothing, sounding familiar, but he still couldn't place it. Something blocked him, mocked his attempts to think, to remember, to act.

Against the darkness, a glint of light flashed along a gun barrel. His analytical side kicked in, adding details: an Uzi, a 50-round 9mm clip, effective range of just over a hundred meters. The smell of spent gunpowder caused his nose to twitch, and suddenly empty brass appeared, lying in a trail on the ground leading to the hovering gun. The barrel pointed to the spot of light, to what or whoever it was that was crying.

"Hiro... I put you in danger."

The whispers grew louder, harsh words meant only for him: _weakness, guilty, coward, suffer, betrayal, disgrace._

The images vanished. He somehow squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shut out the voices. "No... no, I paid for it. I did my time. I did my best."

_I endanged him,_ the whispers accused, the words tearing into him like a knife. He clutched at what he thought was his head, though he could no longer tell. "No, I-I saved him! Stop this, he's okay now!"

Nothing appeared to his eyes, but the words kept coming. _Claire abandoned me._ "No! She understood... I didn't want her to suffer too! Leave me alone!"

_I hurt my family, my friends... I let them down._ "They stood by me! They forgave me! Damn it, stop this!"

_The World is falling apart. I can't figure it out._ "I'm... I'm trying my best! Let me go!"

_They're going to kill me. I'm doing no good here._ "No! I have to fix this! I have to make this right! Please... let me go!"

_Failure..._ "Stop... please..."

_Hopeless..._ "Stop!"

_Guilty._ "Stooooop!!"

He shifted, rocked back and forth uneasily. Something soft and comforting cushioned his back and legs. Though he had screamed himself hoarse, his throat felt only dry and cottony. He reached up to rub his eyes and rolled over, but gave a little shout as he suddenly tumbled off of the soft surface.

_You keep coming back again..._

Dean landed clumsily on his arm, paper crunching under his body. His eyes opened, and although his vision was still blurred, his room quickly came into focus. Everything was where he left it: the TV, the computer, the anime calendar, the coffee table whose leg was inches from his face, the photo of his old precinct, and so on.

"You keep coming back for mo-ore..."

A woman's voice echoed electronically from a set of speakers. He blinked and slowly crawled out from between the table and the couch, still shaking off the effects of his dream. _Wonderful. Like I didn't have enough bullshit on my mind._

Slowly the detective got to his feet, trembling but awake. He drew in a sharp sniff, gulping down hard and trying to forget what the whispers had sounded like. As if some intangible obstacle was suddenly removed from his mind, he recalled the minutes before his collapse on the couch. Lios' email added yet another dimension to the case: on top of insider trading, Dean now had a coma victim who was a potential scapegoat, a coverup that he couldn't explain, let alone prove. It still didn't add up, and something about the way Lee had said "scare away" still stuck with him.

Dean could almost see where he had nearly paced a hole in the floor, trying to figure out what he was missing to link everything together. Fatigue had caught up to him, and he wound up taking a catnap.

Guilt and doubt took it the rest of the way.

"You keep coming back again..." droned the singer. The song's title was known to him: Crystal Method, "Coming Back." The detective swore his media player was mocking him.

He glanced at the clock. _Four in the morning. Good grief._

"You keep coming back for mo-ore..."

Dean groaned as he sat down, feeling a bone pop in his lower back. "Oooh... okay, let's see... what am I missing..."

He had not yet noticed the blinking light on his answering machine.

* * *

Hiroshi rolled his thumb up the mouse wheel, its faint clicks just louder than the whirr of the computer and ceiling fans. The images of battle stutter-skipped past his face, seconds breezing by as knights, players, and the monstrous tree's attacks flickered in and out of view. In stop-motion the tree split open, the eyes rocketing to the sky, and Hiro paused the playback as they sighted down the heroes below.

"Nothing I know of the Epitaph suggests anything specific after the Wave," said a line of text bearing Balmung's name, a chat window overlaying the bottom left corner of the video program. "And the Internet isn't any more helpful."

Orca popped up next, echoing Balmung's comment. "I've tried every way I can think of describing what happened, but nothing comes up in any search."

Hiro sighed, rolling the mouse wheel back. With The World down for the night and BlackRose's exam early in the morning, he was left to confer with the two Descendants. On the way out, BlackRose had offered to run the event - heavily abridged, of course - by a few of her friends from school who had helped her before. Kite had gladly accepted, though Hiro silently worried they'd have about as much luck as he would.

"Maybe we're looking at this from the wrong angle," Balmung suggested. "I doubt this creature was implemented in The World from the beginning, and it may have spawned prematurely from the attack."

Hiro took his hand off the mouse and typed out a reply. "Looking over the battle doesn't show much to identify it, just what we already know: it can use data drain, and it showed an interest in us three."

"Knowing Cyber Connect, that could be a lot of things," was Orca's reply, paired with a flat-line emote. "If they're responsible."

The youth ran the recording back, just prior to the data drain of Poet. He closed his eyes and rubbed them vigorously, fatigue catching up to him; though he hadn't done much physically, The World was taking its toll in other ways. He gave a yawn as he clicked play, a blind shot that the opening attack might tell him something useful.

_We're running out of ideas. At this rate we'll have to wait for it to strike first, if it's even going to._ He frowned. _Which puts us right back where we were before._

He watched as Poet went on about the danger, begging the group of knights to leave. He saw the tree start to shudder and move, heard the explosion of energy as a beam of light shot out and strike the Twin Blade. _Is there even anything to see here? What if there's nothing?_

Something did catch his eye. He'd seen enough players attacked by data drain - one of whom he was currently chatting with - to know what it looked like, and Poet being struck looked authentic; her scream certainly sounded the part. But something seemed off nonetheless, and he wound the camera back further as he typed out a response with his free hand.

"Could it be sabotage? Someone from Asara or another rival?" Orca asked.

Balmung couldn't discount the possibility. "I suppose anything's possible, especially with all this talk about selling off The World."

Hiro watched carefully as Poet appeared, and waited for her to finish speaking. Her stance seemed strange, and it took Hiroshi a matter of seconds to figure out why. "Orca," he typed suddenly, "that disc you gave me has our first encounter with the tree, right? After the field was locked?"

A short pause. "Yeah. Why, do you have an idea?"

"Maybe. Hold on." Hiro broke away from the computer, quickly rifling through the small pile of papers and other junk scattered around the keyboard. Never the neatest of online heroes, Hiroshi had left his desk especially cluttered lately. Still, he quickly found what he was looking for; he popped the disc in the drive, staring impatiently at a spinning hourglass as the computer read the contents.

_I still don't know why he doesn't just get a flash drive,_ he thought, but stopped as a folder popped up showing the disc. He found the video file and cracked it open, running it on the same program to thumb through it second-by-second.

Kite and company ran up to the tree, the camera locked in first-person from Orca's point of view. "It IS a tree," Poet repeated, drawing her eyes up the length of the tree. "Where did it come from?"

Hiro frowned, fast-forwarding again. Orca turned his attention to the knights as they teleported in, though his position still had a clear view of Poet. The female Twin Blade turned to face the nearest knight, but seemed to register little surprise. In fact, although Orca's own movements made it hard to be certain, Hiroshi could swear Poet had completely stopped moving; no idle animation, no breathing, nothing.

_Like what happens when someone steps away._ Hiro paged through the seconds, keeping his eyes on Poet. Though their conversation with the knights was relatively short, Orca fortunately had kept Poet in his field of view the whole time. Pausing the video, he typed in the chatbox, "I think the encounter may have been staged."

"How so?" asked Balmung.

Hiro squinted at the frozen image, even now wondering if he was seeing things. Still, he entered his hunch into the box: "I'm not sure, but I think Poet stopped moving just before the data drain, and again during our first encounter with the knights."

"Stopped moving? You mean she froze?" asked Orca. Hiro could almost picture him scratching the back of his ear, one of his friend's tells for when he didn't follow.

"Yeah, like she went away from her computer. Or... was never there in the first place, I don't know. But something about this looks wrong. Scroll to 2:59 on the video and focus on Poet, you'll see what I mean."

He took a small sip from a glass of water, slick with condensation from melting ice; it almost slipped from his hand as he set it back down. As his friends reviewed their own footage, Hiro thought more about his previous encounters with the Twin Blade. She hadn't made the slightest effort to not appear mysterious, even acknowledging that he had reason to doubt her. His mind took this in several very different directions, ranging from roundabout honesty to a stalling tactic to just trying to keep him and his friends off their guard.

Whatever the reason, the creature's appearance no longer seemed coincidental, which Balmung and Orca soon noticed as well. "I... think he might be on to something," said Orca. "I've got a clear shot of her as she enters the field. When she's not talking, she doesn't move at all."

"Hmm. But what does this mean?" asked his fellow Descendant.

"It means whoever - or whatever - is controlling her, it's not a person. At least, not at the time."

"She knew to be there," Balmung pointed out. "She was there to ask Kamui about Albireo, there to fight off the data bug, there to warn us about the creature right when it broke out. And why would the tree open its attack on her, when there were plenty of other targets nearby? Especially if the creature was so interested in us?"

"Someone is behind this," Hiro typed in. "Someone who knows both the history of the company and the secrets of The World."

"So what do we do with this information?" Orca asked.

Hiro looked down at the keyboard for a moment, piecing together his disparate thoughts into a single theory. "Poet implied The World could be used to create another AI. Her exact words were, 'The poem left things behind.' If she was lying, then she's hiding the fact that it was created elsewhere. If she's telling the truth, then she does know about the game and the company."

"Either way, it means a person was controlling Poet," said Orca, catching on. "But yet they were't, or at least not directly."

"Yeah, I don't know what to make of that." Balmung digitally shrugged. "But if someone's going through a lot of effort to make that data drain look real... they'd need some way to protect themselves. Make sure they weren't harmed offline."

"I'm passing this along to Dean and BlackRose," Hiro typed. "Maybe they'll be able to think of something we haven't."

* * *

Morning had come all too quickly, her mind a jumbled mess of formulas, historical dates, English grammar and other things crudely pounded into her brain. Despite a mere five hours of sleep, she had practically hopped out of bed, almost choking down breakfast as she rounded up her notes and bookbag. Her parents had wished her luck; she worried the luck was wasted on the testing center being ten minutes away on foot.

The building loomed large in front of Akira, and she tightened her hold on her bag as she stared into its gaping maw. Ahead of her, other students dutifully filed into the building, chatting with a mix of excitement and dread over the entrance exam. With standardized exams over several months ago, a few private universities - including the one she was aiming for - were working under a pilot program to run their own exams during the summer months.

She heard a few of the closer ones mention grueling sessions at the nearest cram school, as if to contrast her own unreadiness. _Come on, Akira. You can do this! Just... forget about The World for a moment._ She took a deep breath, steadying herself, briefly wishing she was instead locking horns with the corrupted monster back in Lambda Server. _You studied your heart out for this, and you will remember it. Just relax._

Thoughts of The World soon reminded her that she'd planned to meet Yuuko and the others, in hopes of picking their brains about The World. Yuuko, in particular, knew more about the Epitaph than the rest of her friends put together, and she knew a fair bit about the company as well. Hiroshi's email suggested Poet's 'death' had been staged somehow - it took considerable willpower to not shout "I knew it!" when she read this - and she spent most of her walk mulling over the questions that information raised.

She didn't know how Poet was linked to the infection, what was causing it, or even who she was. But she was going to find out something; for him, if nothing else.

A ringing bell jarred her thoughts, bringing her back to reality. Swallowing quietly, Akira shoved those thoughts aside and took her first steps towards the testing center. The mystery was going to wait.

_Just relax. It's only your future,_ she thought with a flippant smirk. Adopting some of her character's outer confidence, Akira pushed through the revolving door and stepped inside.


	21. Nexus

**DotHack: Rejoinder**

A DotHack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: I'm sure you're all tired of hearing me apologize; a rather nasty combination of technical problems from an OS upgrade, work-related stress, and holiday-related insanity has quite neatly sucked up the majority of my capacity for clear thought. Dragon Age: Origins and the Nameless Mod for Deus Ex had a rather firm hold on my free time as well, sadly. Well, not 'sadly' so much, as they're pretty awesome games, but you know what I mean._

_I'll be frank. The extended hiatus between chapters eight and nine (nine and ten according to the site) did not help my ability to keep the story straight, and I was worried it was starting to show. I took the time to also reread and re-plan things, and hopefully everything will make sense in time. Fortunately, I've got the next chapter well under way, and with any luck it should be easier to keep the ball rolling now. With all that said, let's read on, shall we?_

**

* * *

Nexus**

* * *

"So, wait, you're saying the guy is literally made of swords? That's what that means?"

"Something like that," said Hiroshi into the phone, swerving around a mailbox. "I guess you have to play the game to get it."

"And here I thought it was just Engrish," Dean muttered through the line.

"It could still be that, I just know about it from Yasuhiko. I'll ask him to burn you a copy."

"Groovy, thanks. But to get back on topic, it sounds like we both had a hell of a day," said Dean, his voice cracking with static. "How are you holding up?"

Hiroshi glanced up the street as he crossed, ensuring the way was clear. "I'm okay, but I am worried," he said into his cell phone; in truth, he'd been grateful for Dean's momentary digression. "If what you said - what Lios said - is true, then it wasn't a glitch I saw. Someone's trying to make us think Poet was data drained."

"Which means someone is anticipating this, or maybe even controlling it." Dean sounded relieved, almost enthusiastic. "This is starting to make some sense. Whoever, or whatever, Poet is, someone is trying to throw us off the scent. The way Lios put it, it could also be a shot across the bow for some wavering board members. I'm not gonna know for sure until I get in and check out the office."

"Didn't you say the police were tailing you?" Hiro asked, dropping his voice so a passing cluster of teens wouldn't overhear.

"Yeah, and they're not the only ones," Dean sighed. "I'm working on that. But you may have just saved me a lot of time. What are you all up to right now?"

Horns honked as the light changed behind Hiroshi, cars beginning to flow into the intersection. "We're looking into who Poet could have been. Balmung, Orca, and I think this may be tied to the history of the company. Whoever she is, she knows enough about everything we've been through to try and stage a data drain. Since Harald's work started with Fragment, this may even give us an idea of what we're up against."

"Good a place as any to start from."

Hiro took his phone away from his ear to check the time; he'd forgotten his watch. Sunlight glinted off the screen, nearly blinding him. "Balmung's player, Keisuke, just sent a message to both of us to meet him at the library. He said it was important, but wouldn't say why. Akira's also meeting some friends of hers that know about the Epitaph, she said they might know something about Fragment."

"Here's hoping. All right, I got some prep work to do before tonight, I'll probably talk to you tomorrow. Good luck!"

Hiro turned towards an old three-story building on the corner of the intersection; the public library Balmung had mentioned. "You too, Dean. Be careful!" he said, then flipped the phone closed.

He calmly pushed through the revolving door, out of the humid afternoon air and into the welcome arms of air conditioning. It didn't take long to spot Yasuhiko, waiting by the front desk with an eye on the door. The boy nodded to Hiro and waved him over, stepping away from the desk.

"Hey Hiro," said Yasu, leading them towards the nearest aisle of books. "We're over this way."

"What's going on?" asked Hiroshi, carefully stepping around a footstool. "His message was pretty vague."

A shadow hung over Yasu's face, unnerving his younger friend. "I don't know, I just got here a few minutes ago. He seemed kinda nervous, and he said something about some email he got this morning."

Hiro's imagination took over, guessing any number of possible clues or warnings Balmung could have received. _If it shook him up, it can't be good news._

Yasuhiko led him around a corner to a small table, and as Hiroshi caught sight of Keisuke it occured to him the two had never actually met offline before. Even if he hadn't known beforehand, Hiro could see some resemblances to Balmung: tall, athletic, longish brown hair hanging down over his forehead and accenting his narrow, piercing eyes. Keisuke paced back and forth around the table, worry writ into his brow and one hand palming his chin, only partially dispelling the 'stoic prettyboy' image he shared with his avatar.

He turned to Hiroshi and Yasuhiko as they joined him at the table, and immediately accosted the younger boy with questions. "Did you see anybody on the way in? Were you followed??" he asked in a hurried voice.

Off-put and puzzled, Hiro fumbled his reply. "N-no... wait, what? What's going on? Followed by who?"

"It's okay, nobody was following us," said Yasuhiko, holding his hands up and motioning for Keisuke to calm down. "Now tell us: what's the problem? Why did we have to meet here?"

Kei gulped quietly, trying to reassert some control over himself. "Sorry guys, I... I mean, here's what happened. Overnight I received two emails. One was from... you remember when we were looking for Hokuto, and I sent several emails to old addresses looking for her? I explained who I was and what we were dealing with, and asked if she still played the game. I also asked if she knew where Albireo had gone. Most of the emails just bounced back right away, but one replied. If it's to be believed, it's her."

Hiroshi blinked, giving Yasuhiko a questioning look. The taller boy simply shrugged back, then asked, "What'd she say?"

Kei swallowed and shifted his weight, an awkward movement out of character for the veteran blademaster he played. "She said she hadn't played in a while, and that Albireo's player was... in hiding."

"That doesn't sound ominous at all," Yasuhiko remarked with a sarcastic scoff. "Did she say where?"

"Not exactly, and she sounded suspicious of me as well. She said they were taking precautions, and they had to leave Tokyo..."

"'They' makes it sound like she's hiding with him," Hiro muttered.

"...but she said he'd be willing to meet with one of us down in Osaka. I'm to reply for further instructions."

Yasuhiko crooked his head to one side, recoiling slightly. "That's hardly in the neighborhood. How do we even know it's her?"

Keisuke shook his head, the concern on his face growing more obvious. "I don't know, the whole thing's weird. But the really strange one came just minutes later, and... I don't know what to make of it. It was an unknown sender, but it was addressed to me. The subject read "Don't go." The rest was just, "You'll just lose another friend, Balmung." That's it."

The words hung in the air, the threat a little more than implied. Each youth was silent, all chilled by words that went unsaid; words like, 'we know who you are,' and 'we're watching you.' Yasuhiko tried to say something, but his mouth opened for nothing. Keisuke just hung and shook his head, himself lost for useful words.

Hiro kept still but mentally reeled in horror, his mind recalling a more direct threat from over a year ago. In his thoughts he saw a smoking, coal-black gun barrel, pointed unsteadily in his direction through an open doorway. He was close enough to smell spent gunpowder. Shouts came from the hallway beyond, followed by the groans of a dying man, and then running footsteps. It was all soon buried under the sound of Hiroshi's pounding heart.

"So what the hell do we do?" asked Yasuhiko, almost rhetorically; he wasn't expecting an answer.

Kei replied anyway. "I don't know. We have to... warn somebody, do something. A vagrant AI wouldn't have sent him into hiding. These people know about us. This is real. This is TOO real."

_"Just come with us and we won't hurt Aura,"_ said a voice in the back of Hiro's mind, a blatant threat that hinted how much the speaker knew. Unconsciously, he started to breathe faster, shorter; the words of his friends were faint and distant to him. _"Not Aura, not your friend BlackRose, not anybody."_

"But what do we do, just go to the police? And tell them what?"

_No... it can't be. It's not happening again._ The quiet, serene library started to darken and dim to his eyes, taking on a menacing touch. His vision spun as he drew in short, shallow gasps, and something cold and sharp started to dig hard into his chest.

"Maybe we can... hey, Hiro?"

The world seemed so far away. He heard his friends from far off, their voices echoing down a long, dark tunnel. Between them he heard shouts, shots, police sirens; voices he knew and trusted, but memories tainted by violence and fear. He felt constricted, bound, and whatever it was only got tighter with every passing second.

"Hiro!"

The sensation in his chest slowly faded, and Hiro shook his head vigorously to dispel the shadows. Slowly his sight refocused, and he saw his two friends standing close to him, both looking concerned. "Um... s-sorry guys," he meekly muttered between controlled breaths, his cheeks flushed.

Yasuhiko looked grimly at him, knowing more or less why Hiro had zoned out. He then turned to Keisuke and nodded to him. "Tell Hokuto we'll agree to meet her," he said. "We can't just run around Osaka ourselves, but we'll let Lios know. He'll want to meet Albireo."

"It's as good a plan as any," said Keisuke. He glanced again at Hiroshi, watching the younger teen calm himself. "You okay, Hiro?"

"Yeah... yeah, I'll be okay." Hiro swallowed past a lump in his throat, nodding unconvincingly to Keisuke. "Just bad memories."

Yasuhiko gently patted his friend on the shoulder, a faint glimmer of fear in his own expression. "It's all right," he said with a tremor in his voice, in spite of his best efforts to control it. "It's... it's gonna be all right."

Hiroshi sighed and slid into a nearby chair, hunching over the table. An unseen weight caused his shoulders to sag, and as he glanced up at Keisuke and Yasuhiko, he swore he could see them buckling under the same weight. Even as a voice inside urged him to toughen up, to persevere, a small part of him wanted nothing more than to just set it all down.

For the first time he could remember, Hiro felt ready to do just that.

* * *

The teenaged girl set the can of soda down on the diner table and unhooked her backpack. She traded looks with her friends as she slid into the seat, setting the back down by her feet. "Thanks for waiting, you two."

Akira smiled. "No problem, Yuuko. Thanks for coming. Sorry if I sounded a little vague over the phone."

"Risa said she had something to do afterwards," said Shouko, seated next to Yuuko in the booth. "But anyway, you were asking about Fragment?"

"Yeah, it's... complicated." Akira frowned, folding her hands and pressing her thumbs together. "Lately some strange stuff has been happening in The World, and we're starting to think it's related to how the game began."

Yuuko nodded, popping open her soda can. "I did some basic research a while ago, but there's a lot of conflicting information. Supposedly the core idea for Fragment originated with an internet start-up back in 2000. They went under when the tech bubble burst, but a larger company..." she trailed off, pulling a small notepad out of her backpack. "Here we go, Reprise Software, out of Germany, they bought rights to the idea. The lead programmer for Reprise was none other than Harald Hoerwick."

"So Harald didn't actually start Fragment?" asked Akira, confused.

"No no, he did. At the time Fragment was just a basic online game template," said Yuuko to clarify. "It was Harald who added the details to it. But then later, Reprise was absorbed by Cyber Connect during a hostile takeover, along with most of their intellectual properties. I'm not clear how, but Fragment remained Harald's property, though he wound up selling it to CC anyway. Although Harald didn't have any supervisors for the project, his immediate superior was one Aldous Rosenberg."

"Where have I heard that name before..." Akira muttered dryly, knowing well where she had.

"The Asara CEO?" Shouko asked in her stead. "The one that got busted for that big heist from Cyber Connect? You're saying he was Harald's boss?"

"That's what it says. But more importantly, it's suggested that Harald secretly had help in testing Fragment, and that the whole thing was a mechanism for developing the ultimate AI. It's unclear who, and this gets into rumor territory, but three separate posters said more or less the same thing: he knew it was going to work because they had tried it before. All three said 'they', not 'he'."

Akira pursed her lips, mentally parsing the information. "Huh."

"Wonder why all the mystery, though," said Shouko. "I mean, you hear a lot about Harald in connection to The World, but it's like he's supposed to be some mythical figure. I mean, a project that big would've had to have investors, people to test it..."

"Exactly," said Yuuko. She passed the pad over to Shouko, showing a cirled name amongst her scribbled notes. "I was able to find a name in connection to all this, Emiko Shirai. She was another member of Reprise, and she put forward some theory on AI development that was the foundation of Fragment after Reprise got it. I wasn't sure what else to look for, so I looked into the theory, called AIDA."

Her two friends looked at her oddly, but said nothing "It stands for Artificially Intelligent Data Anomaly," Yuuko explained. "She theorized that true AI wouldn't arise from internal programming. You couldn't make a function complex enough to simulate human growth, or so she argued. An actual AI, or something close enough to be called one, would instead have to develop itself inside a specially-designed environment. If these rumors are accurate, that's what Fragment was supposed to be."

"And that would become The World," said Akira, starting to connect a few dots in her head. "So it's designed to... grow AI?"

"Sort of. It's designed to modify the program based on external data. I don't know how that makes it easier to do, but she was a Nobel candidate for the theory, and one poster seemed certain that she'd actually built a prototype of this system. However, she couldn't get investors and ultimately had to scrap it, which was simply called the 'black box'. That's all I could find, though."

"So Harald was intent on developing a real artifical intelligence," said Shouko, looking from the notepad back up to Yuuko. "And he worked with someone who built a program to do just that. And this black box... it was real?"

Yuuko nodded. "Yeah, it sounds like some kind of server farm built to house the algorithm. At least, that's how the summary reads. The details only get more vague after that. Of course, most of this is from old forum posts, so I really don't know how much is accurate. But they're all telling the same story."

"Hiro-kun was told that the poem left things behind," said Akira, letting her eyes wander as she pondered aloud. "If this..."

There was a brief silence from her friends, long enough for Akira to notice the curious stares of her friends. She trailed off in midsentence and caught Shouko quickly averting her eyes, while Yuuko tried her best to hide a tiny smirk. "Wh-what is it?" BlackRose's player hesitantly asked.

Yuuko suppressed a giggle, waving off her friend's concern and breaking the mood. "It's nothing, it's nothing."

Akira frowned. "What, is there something on my face? What is it?" she repeated.

Shouko threw her seatmate a flat look, then turned back to Akira. "Sorry, I just never heard you call him Hiro-kun before."

"Wha... huh?" Akira blinked, then blushed a bit; she hadn't even realized she'd used the suffix. She couldn't remember ever using them, least of all with a boy two years her junior. With anybody else it might not have been a big deal, but she knew her friends took a too-active interest in her love life. In her haste to reply she tripped over her tongue, more embarrassed thanks to her company than from what she actually said. "S-so what? Hiro and I... well... y-you know! What's the big deal, right?"

Yuuko laughed a little harder. "Now I'm really glad we didn't invite Hagiya along," she said, earning her a death stare from Akira and a sharp elbow to the ribs from Shouko. "Ow! Hey, I'm just saying..."

Shouko rolled her eyes, but she had the look of biting her own tongue to keep from laughing with her friend. "It's just funny how things turned out, in spite of your planning."

"There you go again with that 'your plan' stuff, like it wasn't you who got her to watch his concert..."

Akira could imagine the same scene in any of a dozen or so of her country's animated exports, and it made her want to beat her head against a wall. "Ugh! Let's just focus here, okay? This 'black box,' if it's real, could it be responsible for all that's happening in The World?"

Yuuko's smile faded, and she could only shrug. "Honestly, I don't know. It seems like it could, but... it's just hard to believe. And like I said, you have to consider the source. All we have to go on are rumors."

"From what I've heard, this outbreak shares a few similarities with the last one," Shouko said, also straightening up. "That doesn't prove it's the same thing happening again, but if The World is basically one giant 'black box,' then maybe what we're seeing is one of these anomalies in effect."

"So it doesn't all come from Harald," Akira mused. "We know he based Fragment on the Epitaph, and that Aura was supposed to be the daughter he and Emma Wielant could have had. But it's sounding more and more like this... what was her name, Emiko? It sounds almost like she was..."

"...the mother," Yuuko finished quietly. "The real mother."

* * *

"Can I help you, sir?"

The young delivery man strolled up to the receptionist's desk and cleared his throat. "Yes, I'm here for a pickup from Mrs. Cook, she called it in this morning."

"Mrs. Cook?" the girl wrinkled her brow, then her face lit up in recognition. "Ahh, of course. Just a moment, sir."

The Cyber Connect desk clerk leaned over in her chair, pushing aside a pile of papers and producing a clean, sealed envelope ready for shipping. The package had struck her as odd; she hadn't known of anyone named 'Cook' that worked in the building. Still, she gave it little thought as she handed the document over, and the delivery man deftly scanned it in.

"Busy day?" she asked, flashing him a cheerful smile.

He smiled back as he turned away, a small scab marring his lower lip. "Just getting started, I'm afraid. Have a nice day, ma'am!"

"You too, Mr. Koda! See you tomorrow!"

Saito strode purposefully across the sunlit Cyber Connect lobby, out the doors and down the steps away from the building. He passed the substantial foot traffic of people entering and leaving for lunch, and hopped into the waiting delivery truck. Confident that nobody could see exactly what he was doing, he tore the package open and pulled out the few sheets of paper within.

A small black USB drive tumbled free from the envelope, plopping into his hand. Attached to it was a simple post-it note, bound by a rubber band and marked with hurried pen scratches: "These should be authentic enough to convince them. Move when he does, and be discreet."

The thin-faced thug carefully put the drive away and set the envelope on the seat next to him. _Whatever you say, 'Seaen,' whatever you say._


	22. Position

**DotHack: Rejoinder**

A DotHack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

_Notes: Hah, so much for 'keeping the ball rolling,' huh? Work stress, shortage of free time, etc. You know the deal by now. I am committed to finishing this thing, it's just gonna take longer than I intended. Anyway, I had a couple different ideas in mind for Miku's trip to Dean's apartment, and these in turn affected events down the line. Big ones. As in 'who's gonna survive' and 'who's gonna turn out to be the bad guy' kind. Also, TMG stands for Tokyo Metropolitan Government. Yet another thing I first learned about through Deus Ex mods. Read on, folks!

* * *

_

**Position**

* * *

"Dean, it's Miku. Are you there?" She paused on the answering machine, waiting for the pickup that never came. "I guess you might be asleep by now. I don't know if anybody told you about the attack in the game. Hiro said he was going to try to get ahold of you."

The message was from the night before, going unnoticed until just after lunch. Dean had heard the bullet points from both Hiroshi and Francis. "Well... there's more to it than what they told you. In fact, some of it I'm just now starting to understand. I have to show you something. Please, call me back as soon as you can. I... don't think it's safe to discuss this over the phone."

Miku wasn't easily rattled, and he knew she had experience in fighting unusual phenomena in The World. Whatever it was, it hit her a lot closer to home, and it set all his internal alarms off. His first instinct was to call her back, but he wasn't yet sure how to explain what had happened to him in Edogawa-ku, and much less what he was about to do. Tabling the message for now, he grabbed the cordless phone and punched in someone else's number.

The phone trilled quietly as Dean wandered over to the kitchen counter, one of his fingers toying with a colorful snack box marked with the image of chocolate cookie sticks. His brain absentmindedly translated some of the words along the box, tripping spectacularly over various kanji characters. _I'm never going to learn this stupid language._

Nobody had followed him into the apartment building, but Dean could tell his room was being watched. The brown Toyota across the street from his window tried its best to stay inconspicuous, but the driver had gotten close enough for Dean to mentally mark it. He ran his morning errands with the car in tow, taking deliberate detours and longer routes to see if they would follow, which they had.

He'd been half tempted to order them a pizza or something and sneak up to plug the exhaust, but he doubted the grim-faced, plainclothes policemen would appreciate the reference.

"Moshi Moshi?" greeted a familiar male voice through the line.

Dean briefly fretted over whether 4:30 was late enough for a 'good evening.' "Konban wa, Mr. Tokuoka. It's Dean. Sorry if I'm interrupting something, but do you have a moment?"

"Mr. Stollis," said Tokuoka, seemingly surprised. "Of course, what can I help you with?"

"I've been looking into those people we talked about the other day. Something in The World is starting to affect things out of it... or someone wants us to think it is. Yesterday's blackout may have been used as cover for something criminal, and I need to get inside CC headquarters to find out." Dean paced slowly in the kitchen, his upcoming request uncomfortable even to him. "I've already got a way in, but I need to get there discreetly."

That caught the former Cyber Connect employee off guard. "Define discreetly."

The tone was neutral, a good sign to Dean. "You remember Francis Moritsu?"

"Lios? What about him?"

He slipped a hand into the open box, pulling out a wrapped stick of pocky. "This was his idea. He's meeting me at a parking garage near the office, but I'm being tailed. I'm at my apartment and I can get out without being seen, I just need a ride once I do."

"Ahh, I see. You can't just take a taxi?"

"I could, but I'd rather somebody know where I am. Plus, once they figure out I'm not in here they can find out taxi pickups and drop-offs in the area."

Tokuoka was quiet for a few seconds, mulling the odd requeset over. "All you need is a ride to the garage?"

"Yeah," said Dean uncomfortably, wedging the phone on his shoulder to unwrap the stick. "I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important, but if it's too much to ask, I understand. I know you've been out of this for a while now..."

"Oh don't misunderstand, detective. I'll help!" said Tokuoka, interrupting Dean with a sudden burst of enthusiasm. "I was actually just disappointed that's all you wanted me to do. I'm not one to... shall we say, pass up on a chance to annoy security."

Dean sighed in relief, chuckling into the phone and taking a bite from the stick. "Right on. All right, here's how we'll do this. There's a train station near the TMG complex in Shinjuku, I can get there on foot in about half an hour. Can you meet me there?"

"Sure, when should I get there?"

"Within the hour if you can."

"Sounds good. I'll see you in an hour."

"See you there," said Dean. He hung up and lowered the phone to the counter, polishing off the rest of the stick with one bite. "All right... what do I tell her, what do I tell her..."

Quickly coming to suitable words, he punched in her number and brought the phone back up. A few rings, and an aswering machine; Miku wasn't home. Silently, he was glad for this.

"Miku, it's Dean. Sorry I missed your call. God, I hope everything's okay over there," he sighed. "I did talk to Hiro earlier, and he brought me up to speed. Lios told me something happened during the blackout and I'm looking into it. If we're right, it means everything so far may have been staged. I'm gonna be out and about in a bit, so if you haven't left yet, stay put."

He frowned, remembering her own request. "Sorry I can't meet right now, but I gotta move in a few minutes. I will have my cell phone with me: 382-555-8049. If you can't get to me, get ahold of Lios - Francis - and he'll tell you what's going on. If you think you're in danger, get ahold of the police and ask for Lieutenant Masamoto. Otherwise, I'll call you later."

The detective almost hung up, but swallowed down a fresh breath of air and continued. "And Miku, I..." he stopped, slowly exhaling and shaking his head. He reached for words that weren't there; too much up in the air, too much he didn't know. "Look, just be safe, okay?"

Dean set the phone back on its charger, trying to clear his thoughts of worry and confusion. Too many angles pulled at his mind, not the least of which being the reason he was about to break into Cyber Connect. _Covering up a coma case one thing. Staging one is new, even for these guys. Well, with any luck we can sort this out tonight. I better get my gear ready._

Jogging over to his bedroom, Dean threw the scattered stuff on the bed into a black duffel bag; improvised crime scene equipment, ranging from plastic bags and masking tape to his tape recorder and a small toolkit. Zipping up the bag, he again got the impression that a certain cinematic icon of his was laughing at him from beyond the grave. Rolling his eyes, he conjured up the image of Lauren Bacall smacking Bogart upside the head and dragging him off.

He snickered and pushed the thought aside, focusing on his escape plan for the apartment. _All right, getting out is easy enough. Lights and TV stay on. Elevator down to sublevel parking, there's a blind spot up one of the side ramps that the cops won't see. A short hop over a fence is the next block, and from there it's a nice, leisurely stroll to the TMG station._

A dark-dressed man greeted him in the mirror, and he took a quick appraisal of himself. _Black shirt and slacks, check. Good running shoes, check. Black gloves, check. Highly conspicuous black ski mask?_ He snatched the rolled-up mask off the dresser - the clerk had given him a funny look for the purchase - and stuffed it in a side pouch on the bag. _Check._

Any half-competent officer could figure out the American dressed all in black was up to no good, but Dean did his best to think positive. Mockingly, he made fingerpistols at his reflection and grinned broadly. "Who's ready for a little B&E?"

* * *

Input. Countless layers of input.

It fed from all directions, spiraling inward, unseen yet clear as day. Every gesture, every utterance, every command came through; players laughing and shouting, acronyms, parties, raids. There was no instantaneous understanding, no sudden flash of knowledge, but with each passing second it was more aware.

"You've grown so much," intoned a gentle female voice, the voice that had stirred it from slumber. "You've made yourself right at home, Watcher."

It took the voice in, studied her words, but could not identify the source. The speaker stood as a shadow against the ever-growing picture of knowledge; a moving portrait of The World. The name, Watcher, held significance it did not understand, and as if a switch had simply been turned on, Watcher knew of its own existence.

"Fear not," said the female shadow. "You have removed me from sight, but not mind. I have aided you before, and you aided me in kind."

Watcher saw the shadow slowly fade into view, a familiar face tied to familiar data. She spoke again, and Watcher could picture a lone player standing in an empty white field. "You studied us all this time, ever the curious guest. Always amassing, collecting."

Her words triggered something inside Watcher, something it couldn't yet comprehend; some alien impulse, a drive to suddenly act on what it alone could see. The shadow was now more distinct: a woman garbed and veiled in dark, loose-fitting clothes, armed with a pair of deadly short swords. Watcher could see her movements, and for the first time it realized it could see. It matched her identity with another, with one who accessed its memories not long ago.

"You knew it all, right down to the smallest detail. You just did nothing with this knowledge." She smiled behind her veil. "No... no, that's not right, is it? You are knowledge, and nothing more. Years of data collected, simply to exist without a will or purpose. You lack what Harald provided."

Against the picture of knowledge, a handful of words became clear. The words had no meaning to Watcher, and yet it tied the words to its new sense of direction.

Poet's smile faded, staring up as the eyes of Watcher appeared before her. She spoke the same words that Watcher saw, and it knew to obey.

"End the Poem."

* * *

"While the exact cause of the blackout is unknown, it is known that the subway warning system did not sound as a result. Unfortunately, Mr. Pirinako could not get off the tracks in time."

The police spokesman's voice drifted in through the radio on the far counter, muffling the clacking keyboard of the bored clerk. Miku tried to ignore the press conference, but the suspect's description from last night's news kept coming back to her. She punched the call button for the apartment elevator as a reporter questioned the spokesman. "Are the police ruling out the possibility of an accident?"

"We still don't know enough to rule that out, although we can confirm metro had both men in custody before the power went out."

As if to taunt Miku, another reporter asked, "Sir, eyewitnesses described the suspect as a white American male in his thirties, and someone matching that description was seen talking to police. Any comment?"

While that didn't exactly narrow it down to one person, the news broadcast had included security footage of the scuffle. To Miku, the blurry, jacketed figure looked an awful lot like Dean, and that alone was cause for concern. However, the real reason for her visit sat in a plastic bag in her pocket; a white card with a few words written on it.

_Your detective is spying on you, just as you feared he would._

"No comment," said the spokesman as the elevator creaked open. "Not that this time."

She boarded the lift and hit the button for Dean's floor. The card was left in her mailbox, the envelope blank but innocent enough on the outside. It wasn't the accusation that bothered her; she knew Dean wasn't the type to violate someone's privacy. But she had doubted this in the past, and that was the real problem.

The elevator began its ascent, and her stomach sank as she remembered a conversation from years ago, between her avatar and that of Ryo Sakuma. Bear's player described him rather plainly, but the thought of a crooked cop and former prisoner conjured up all sorts of imagery. She confided in Bear that she feared Dean was some kind of stalker, an unwelcome holdover from her days as a model.

_From my days as Machiko,_ her thoughts added, sounding loud against the swaying elevator.

A silly little doubt, she never did voice it to him directly. Nor had she explained where - or more accurately who - the fear really came from. But it was the doubt that worried her now, or rather the fact that someone knew of it and was trying to exploit it.

The doors opened, and she worked up the nerve to step through them.

Miku followed the carpet away from the elevator, past a maintenance man unscrewing a broken light fixture. He smiled and nodded to her, and she returned the favor; a brief glimmer of vanity caused her to wonder if he recognized her. She shrugged it off and rounded a corner at the junction. _Few do,_ she reminded herself, stepping to one side to allow two other men to pass her by. She ignored their conversation and counted doors down to Dean's apartment.

She couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when she saw a light coming from under the door. Raising her hand, she knocked gently on the door, unable to squelch the strange fluttering in her stomach. Part of her gave a death stare at the other part for even thinking the word 'butterflies.'

"Dean?" she called, knocking harder. To her surprise the door shifted inward, slightly ajar. She gave it a hesitant push and it swung wide open, the bolt jammed inside the door to keep it from closing.

Miku tensed up as she entered Dean's apartment, technically trespassing, although that wasn't her real problem. The apartment was cozy enough, a standard one-bedroom unit with several personal touches; she wasn't too surprised to see an anime calendar and a few game consoles plugged into the TV. The lights, TV, and computer had been left on, local news played at a low volume on the TV and the computer monitor showing a field of stars for a screensaver. Apart from the active appliances, Miku didn't see anything obviously wrong.

And yet the open door kept her ill at ease. She quietly closed it behind her, eyes searching the room. "Dean?" she called, and it went unanswered.

Slowly she crept into the apartment. She doubted anybody was in earshot, but she feared making too much noise regardless. As she passed the couch and coffee table, she caught sight of a few conspicuous papers scattered around the computer, and took a closer look at them.

One page looked crinkled and partly torn as if forced out of a paper jam, but it was still clearly legible; correspondence between parties lableled L, C, and I. The text seemed as gibberish, references to blades, spades, gardens, and performances. However, the word 'poetry' stood out to her, and she guessed that the messages were coded. A bit of ugly chicken-scratching on one of the pages read "watch = Lios," and suddenly the letter speaking of looking for a 'cooperative watch' made a bit more sense.

_Are these from whoever's behind all this? How did Dean get ahold of them?_ Miku frowned. _And... this last one sounds like they were trying to bribe Lios or something. That cant' be right... can it?_

The sound of paper flapping from the next room caught her attention, and she froze in place. She glanced at the open bedroom door, breath held and bracing for a sign of movement. When none came, she gingerly tiptoed towards the door, and poked her head through it. Something flapped again thanks to the ceiling fan, and movement caught her eyes; a large photograph on the bed, held in place by an open briefcase. Several other pictures lay scattered about, some spilled onto the floor by the fan.

_What's going on here?_ she wondered, inching towards the nearest picture and picking it up. On it was a security camera's blurry image of tow men conversing, the location some nondescript office hallway. One of the men had a circle drawn around his head by a black marker, but she couldn't tell who it was. A few others on the bed showed similar sights, one a close-up of an older, bald, and bespectacled Asian businessman. Miku could swear she had seen his face before, but she didn't know where.

She looked at the other photos, several taken from a digital camera and blown up. To her surprise, they seemed to follow a few people throughout their daily routine; the sight of a young, professionally-dressed woman unintentionally brought the word 'stalker' back to mind. She tried to shake it off, thinking this was part of detective work, but the mess of pictures made her skin crawl all the same.

Miku scowled at herself, pushing the thoughts out of her mind. _No, it can't be that. Dean's not like that. It has to be something else._

That thought died as she came to the next photo, a headshot of someone she did recognize: Francis Moritsu, AKA Lios. A black circle had been drawn around Francis' head, and a crooked 'x' over his face. Miscellaneous pen marks dotted the picture, and the word 'mole' had been scrawled onto a corner. As she tried to mentally process what she was seeing, her eyes wandered back to the bed, and to the briefcase pinning a few pictures down.

The case lay open and empty, its hard plastic inset outlined in the shape of a handgun and a spare magazine.

Pieces fell together, scrambling other pieces in the process. She swallowed hard, eyes wide with confusion and panic. "No," she whispered, unwilling to connect the dots: the coded message, the exed-out photo, the gun case. The picture slipped from her hands, already sweaty from the balmy room. "No... Dean, you can't be..."

Her rational mind screamed at her that this wasn't right, that this couldn't be what it looked like. The screaming went almost unheard; she stared through the far window, lost and worried. _This isn't him,_ her mind pleaded again and again, _this isn't him._ She didn't believe it. She didn't believe him. She didn't know what to believe.

Movement caught her eye; red and blue lights spinning by the window. She put her face up to the blinds and carefully pushed the slats apart, quickly spotting a pair of police cars parked across the apartment building.

_I wonder what this is about?_ Uniformed officers got out, soon joined by a pair of men in casual dress; plainclothes officers, she guesed. The four men traded words and confused gestures, too far down for Miku to hear their conversation. One of them suddenly pointed up towards her, and she let out a gasp and recoiled from the blinds as if burned by them.

_Shit! Did they see me? No... no, I don't think they did. It's the apartment, they're coming in._) Miku didn't know why, but she knew she had to be gone before she found out the hard way. Pulse racing, she backed away from the window and left the bedroom behind. She almost ran to the door, though she carefully pulled it open and slipped quietly out into the hallway.

Fortunately, nobody was around. She took in and held a deep breath, trying to control her pounding heart. As she headed for the elevator, the photos, documents, and gun case flitted through her mind. Everything about this was wrong, and the police only added another piece to the puzzle. It still didn't make sense to her, but something locked solidly into place, something she'd seen a thousand times in movies and cop shows.

Miku pounded the call button and folded her arms, nervously drumming her fingers. Just like that, she knew she was wrong to doubt Dean, and yet relief was nowhere to be found within her.

_He's being framed. I've got to warn him!_

* * *

"Brings back memories."

Junichiro's words broke the near-silence of the parking garage, his usual lopsided smirk nowhere to be seen. Combined with the ash-gray button down shirt and vacant stare in his eyes, the former Cyber Connect employee looked atypically distant to the detective.

Sitting up straight in the car seat, Dean glanced over at his driver. "Feeling nostalgic?" he asked jokingly.

"For the job or for breaking in?" Still no smirk, but Junichiro's voice carried a touch of humor.

"Either or."

A noncommittal shrug preceded the driver's reply. "A little of both, actually. I certainly don't miss getting roughed up by security. But there's something to this whole thing that makes it hard to just set down... a little piece of it that stays with you no matter where you go."

"And here I thought I was the only one," Dean said, leaning back and staring up ward at the cheap blue upholstery. He took notice of a distant car engine, growing louder. "Heh... when Frank called me, a part of me was actually glad to have something to do. Y'know, to be in action again. Tried to put it out of mind and tell myself it was over, but here we are again. Far be it from me to ignore a genuine mystery, I guess."

Headlights flickered across the ramp to the lower level, distracting the detective. "Is that sick?" he asked. "It feels a little sick."

"Maybe a little," Junichiro finally chuckled. "But if this whole thing has taught me anything, it's that sometimes you're just not done yet, no matter what you tell yourself."

"Hrm." Dean watched the lights crawl up the ramp, and a forest green sedan calmly rolled into view. "This might be my ride. If he turns towards us, hit your brights twice."

The other car did just that, leveling off and turning right around the guard rail towards the two men. Junichiro flicked his lights as told, and the other car matched the signal. The detective took a deep breath and let it out slowly, reaching down for the duffel bag at his feet. He pulled out the mask and rolled it onto his head, though not all the way down.

"What do you think you'll find?" asked the former employee.

Hefting the bag with one hand, Dean pushed the door open with the other and slid out of the seat. "My own personal Maltese Falcon," he said dryly, shutting the door behind him.

The sedan parked close by, and the window rolled down to show Francis behind the wheel. Dean strolled over to the driver's side, bag over his shoulder. He scanned the lot carefully, making sure no bystanders were milling around in earshot. Confident nobody was nearby, he cleared his throat and spoke up. "Heya Frank."

Francis gave a quick nod. "Evening, Dean. Only a couple people will be in tonight, myself included. You shouldn't have any interruptions if you're careful."

Nonchalance left the detective's tone and posture, and he adjusted his hold on the bag. "Is the room still secure?"

"I believe so, but I can't be certain." He reached over for a button by the steering column, and the trunk popped open with a loud click. "You'll have to be discreet. If one of the guards sees you, about the only thing I can do is keep them from shooting you."

"Goody," said the detective, approaching the trunk and pulling the mask down over his face. "Let's do this thing."


End file.
